Mellie's Musings: Tales of a Woman scorned
by TruthSS
Summary: Mellie has been married to a powerful man for a long time. Here are her thoughts on how she's coped through the years...
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

He did not kiss her when he walked in. Mellie knew what that meant. _He probably went down on her. _

The tell-tale signs were always there. The bounce in his step, the deepening of the swagger in his walk, and of course, his very red ears, it was all there.

"Hi!" he said brightly as walked into the bedroom of in the residence. It was a cold January night. It had been a few weeks since Fitz's inauguration. The excitement of his ascendency to the Presidency however had been reserved to politics, media coverage and his aides. Mellie was happy for him, truly. He had accomplished a lifelong dream. But as far as their marriage was concerned, well, that was a different story.

"Hello." She answered coldly, turning the page of the Time magazine that she was reading.

It had not gotten better in the sense that they were the perfect couple. They never would be that. But he could at least he pretend. At least he could pretend for the sake of their children that he could stand to be in same room with her. They had begun to notice the distance years ago. The most hurtful had been when Karen, their oldest daughter had made the national honor roll for the first time her freshmen year of high school. There had been a ceremony.

_Mom, if you want to come, come, if dad wants to come he can too, but I do not need both you there pretending to be in love and stuff._

It was painful. Even her daughter judged her. The looks of disgust, the rolling of her eyes, the young woman constantly made biting comments about her parent's marriage.

_The day you get a divorce is the day Karen stop making comments. _Jerry had said smugly the last time he was home from school.

She was not sure if they knew if their father was having an affair. But they were smart kids.

What made it even more insulting was the fact that she, the other woman was flaunted in her face every day. It was almost like the universe was punishing her for being a supportive wife. The glowing press coverage, the incessant worshiping and the praise of Olivia Pope was everywhere. The infamous Time magazine profile, _The Ultimate Work wife…_with the black and white photo of Olivia whispering in her husband's ear. It was a photo that had become iconic. It fit the media narrative of Olivia being the brains of political strategy for the administration.

_Looking at her, she looks more apropos as a cast member of Sex and the City. But to spend any time with her is to be impressed by a woman so steeped in political knowledge, it unnerves one._

It made her sick. The whole thing. And now here she sat, staring at her husband as he loosened his tie. A tie that Olivia had gotten him as a "gift for his win."

"So how was your day?" she asked coolly. He looked over his shoulder as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. His eyes, his face said it all.

"It was great, briefings, that kind of stuff." He smiled. Mellie nodded.

"Is that why you were late?" she asked. Staring him in the eye. _I know you fucked her today._

He smiled nodding his head as if to say, "I know what this is about." He walked over to her side of the bed, leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. There was no passion, no sense of love, but a mere formality. But what had made her stomach turn was the smell.

The musky smell of her fragrance on him. She could not deny she had good taste in fragrances. It was sweet and feminine. Gucci maybe…

As he stood up straight to look at her, she could see a smudge. Tiny, peach and very clear, just on the shoulder of his undershirt. It was almost like those old-fashioned photographs of Marilyn Monroe, that she signatured with a lipstick kiss.

Olivia loved light toned lipsticks….

"I'm going to go take a shower." He said casually. She stared at him. Was he taunting her? What was that dancing in his eyes? It was almost a look of triumph. Payback for years of her coldness. Sure, she had her fair share of fun. But she had never fallen in love with those men. He on the other hand, seemed to take pleasure in making her suffer. He did not even bother to hide the evidence anymore.

"Sure". She said smiling tightly. Inside she was seething. The level of disrespect…she had noticed the mounting carelessness. The black lace La Perla bra she had found under the bed and the long curly black strand of hair she had found in the shower.

And the crown jewel, the afternoon she had left her scarf in the residence. She had been in the closet, digging around, when she suddenly heard giggling. Her giggling. She stayed in the closet, holding her breath, waiting for them to finish. But it took a while. A long hour. One that cause her to feel like she had would throw up. The closet door was cracked slightly so she could see them.

Her lithe body bending and contorting in varying positions, the primal yells. His head in between her legs….

It was something that haunted her. Every day. The flashes of that unfortunate afternoon came back to her. She had never known Fitz to be that wild and unhinged. Apart of her was curious, jealous even. Fitz had always been a good lover. But the dominant lothario he was not. In their own, somewhat non-existent sex life, he always seemed bored, distant and clinical. As if his only goal was to get the whole thing over with.

But with her, he grabbed, clawed and growled. He repeated her name like a prayer, one that was desperate to redeem him.

It was another example of the twisted nature of their marriage. The dysfunction that if people had only known about, she would not be sitting in this pristine bedroom, in the very bed he consistently screwed his mistress.

If people had known…

But this took years in the making….this kind of twisted arrangement did not just happen overnight.


	2. A Very Charmed Encounter

_Summer in the Hamptons, 1973._

The Valmont's were a powerful family. Titans of industry that had been dominant in American culture since they arrived in the United States. A family decedent of Noblesse de robe, French nobility of the robes, they had spent generations dominating the upper-echelons of French society. Until Pierre de Valmont, one of Mellie's great ancestors married an American socialite, Vivian Spencer, of the wealthy Spencer clan who had made their fortune through the railroads. He moved to the Island of New York and expanded beyond his nobility, becoming a power house in steel only rivaled by Andrew Carnegie.

The dynamic couple of good looks, blue blood and societal status had spawned generations of businessmen, heads of state and ambassadors. They had also left in their wake beautiful real estate, like the 19th century ancestral home in East Hamptons. It was a white, brick manor home filled with antiques, elegant paintings and countless rooms. And it was where Mellie was spending her summer.

She had just graduated from Columbia University with a degree in Political Science and a concentration in International Law. And after years of hard work, internships and summering in France, she was spending sometime in New York. Her parents had been up to their typical routine of keeping up with their social calendar. Sure, she liked to go to the occasional party, mingling and being introduced to suitable bachelors that would be her eventual husband. But frankly, she preferred playing tennis with her mother and taking swims in the pool.

But this afternoon, the Valmonts were having lunch with Elizabeth and Fitzgerald Grant II in the lush garden. The elder Grant was a popular; two term governor of California who was seeking the endorsement of her father. The Valmonts had been very influential in Republican politics so it was only natural. However, her husband not exactly cut from the same cloth.

Sure, Elizabeth Adams was one of them, with her Boston Brahmin background. But her husband, well, as her father would say, was from a "coarser fabric". Sure he had come from a long line of politicians but the Grants were not of their world. They had come from nothing. Descendants of goat herders…

"So, Melody, I hear you are going to Harvard, to study law, very impressive." Elizabeth Grant said kindly, taking a sip of her gin.

"Yes. She is, summa cum laude our girl is." Paul Valmont smiled, his blue eyes aglow with pride. Any opportunity for him to brag about her, he took. He was very proud of his little girl's accomplishments. Unlike her mother, who pursed her lips. Mellie was an only child, and unfortunately a female. While her father believed she could do whatever she wanted to do, her mother was more old-fashioned and thought she should be married by now.

"You should be proud." Mr. Grant said, dazzling her with a smile. Like most of the Grant men, he was incredibly good-looking. "Our Fitz is going to Harvard as well."

"Speaking of which, where is he?" Mellie asked curiously. He was supposed to be here but he did not show. But she should not be surprised.

Fitzgerald Grant III was a playboy extraordinaire. Devilishly handsome, charming with eyes the color of stone, he was known for living life in the fast lane. Fast cars, parties and a taste for exotic women, he had caused his parent's their fair share of embarrassments publicly. There had been an incident with a Brazilian model in Studio 54 and a slew of DUIs. So she was not surprised. She had met him at a few functions and was not impressed.

But before his parents could answer her question, they heard a loud _vroom _noise. Her head whipped around, over the shrubs and toward the round drive through to see a Porsche convertible pulling in so fast, the ducks had begun to scatter. Mellie looked across the table to see the Grants were visibly embarrassed. Elizabeth had her head down, playing with grapes in her plate, while her husband seemed very interested in his loafers all of a sudden. Her own parents however looked amused.

_Here he comes…._Mellie thought mentally rolling her eyes.

As the car parked, a tall figure emerged from tiny sports car.

_Jeans for Sunday brunch, how appropriate. _She thought sarcastically as he got closer. He was wearing bellbottom jeans, very en vogue, a black form fitting button down that emphasized his broad shoulders and cut physique, dark aviators and really expensive looking shoes. He looked like Andy Gibb.

His dark hair, curly was over grown. Very unlike his father's elegant coif. Fitzgerald was swaggering. That signature, and Mellie hated to admit, sexy walk he had. It caught everyone's attention. It was as if he knew he was always the best looking man in the room.

"Well, hello everyone!" he said in a booming voice as he made his way into the entrance of the gate.

"Fitz." His father greeted sternly. Mellie could see the anger in his father's eyes. He sauntered over to the empty chair right next to Mellie and plopped down.

"Where were you?" Elizabeth Grant asked through a strained smile. Her celery green eyes were cold with disapproval.

Fitz licked his lips and flashed a smile. "I was eating mother". As he said this he looked over at Mellie, and cocked an eyebrow.

"I bet you were." Mellie whispered to herself under her breath.

"I'm sorry, gorgeous did you say something?" he asked her, taking off his glasses.

Mellie looked at him, shaking her head. She knew not to look him in the eyes…he had a way with them. And she was not going to be like every girl she knew. Drooling over this loser.

"It's nice that you could join us." Mellie's mother said kindly. She seemed to be charmed by the young man's arrogance.

"Why thank you Mrs. Valmont." He said politely. "Mr. Valmont, I trust you are well?"

"Very. But you could stand to slow down a bit son. You're a Grant. You do not want to throw that all away by getting into a car crash." Paul offered kindly.

Fitz flashed a smile at the elder man, running a hand through his thick locks. "Was it not Emerson who said 'with the past, I have nothing to do; nor with the future. I live now?'

Mellie stared at him in amazement. On what planet was it okay to drive like a maniac _and _quote Ralph Waldo Emerson?

"This is very true." Mellie's mother said chuckling. The double standard was stunning. He got to act out because what? He was of a lesser family or because he was a guy?

"Well, we have this little thing in the Hamptons where we like to keep things quiet." Mellie said coolly.

Fitz smirked, cocking his head and staring right into her eyes. _Great! Now he's got you._

He held her gaze, as if challenging her to speak.

"Well, since you seem to be an expert on the Hamptons, show me around." He said softly.

Mellie looked shocked, looking at her parents, but they were smiling encouragingly.

"That seems like a good idea." Fitzgerald II offered, clearly trying to get rid of his son so they could go back to conducting business.

"Umm…sure." Mellie said hesitating.

"Now, Melody, it's rude to stutter." Fitz said cockily as he stood up, motioning for her to follow him. She shot him a look and rolled her eyes, stalking out of the garden and towards the expansive compound. She walked at a brisk pace, fuming with anger.

_How dare he?_

"Hey!" he yelled after her. "What's with you?" But she did not stop. She was walking so fast that her white sundress was beginning to stick to her body from the sweltering summer heat. Her long ponytail was bouncing violently, beating against her shoulder blades.

"Hey!" He said finally catching up to her when they reached the fountain. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "Seriously, what's your damage!"

She ripped her arm out of his grasp and stared him in the face. She was seething. He had the ability to trigger absolute loathing and hatred from her.

"My damage is you, you and your obnoxiousness." She spat viciously. He still had that smug smile on his face. She sat on the edge of the marble fountain and tried to regain her breath.

"Ha! Yeah right. I know your type. Nothing a good screwing around cannot fix." He said. This sent Mellie over the age. Mainly because he looked so good, but also how offending he could be.

"My type? Please! My type is a lot better than those colored whores you screw." She said coldly, folding her arms and cocking her head.

He stared at her, his lips parted slightly as his tongue traced them. She could see his eyes dancing playfully.

"That's a bit tawdry." He said, with mock indignation. But Mellie was not having it.

"Well, everyone reads page six, so don't sound so shocked. Nice to know you embarrass your family." He cocked his head, confusion spreading along his striking features.

"Embarrassing because I'm screwing around, or embarrassing because I'm screwing women of different races. Colored is a bit antiquated, no?" Fitz asked bemused.

Mellie rolled her eyes. "Oh, spare me the liberal political correctness. You know what I mean."

"Great, so you not only have a stick up your ass, you're racist too?" he said smirking more. He folded his arms as though he had made some great discovery.

"I am not! I just don't think what you're doing is appropriate."

"Why because I'm not doing it with you?" he asked coolly. Mellie could feel herself getting red. Was it true? Sure she was sexually attracted to him, who would not be? But did she want to sleep with him?

"That's….totally…not… the…point." She said befuddled as she stood up. He sauntered his way confidently toward her and into her personal space. He was so close, she could smell his woody cologne. His lips looked even better from her vantage point. She tried to keep her focus on his chiseled jaw but it did not work as her eyes traveled up to his grey ones.

"For your information, I don't want you, never will. You're too stuck up for my taste and frankly you have "bad lay" written all over you. You look like a virgin too, which I'm sure has a lot to do with you being frigid. I'm still trying to figure out if it is because you are medically frigid or if it is a mental thing." But as he spoke, his mouth travelled to her ear. Mellie could feel her body getting warm.

"I could have you if I wanted. So drop the pretense. You want me. Admit it. My dad would love it. Me paring off with the American princess. But don't even think about it. Because I'm not interested. Go play with your fancy dolls, watch your opera and stay in you league. Because I would fuck your brains out, if...I wanted." He blew softly into her ear, leaving her to come undone.

"I…" Mellie started, but he walked back. He looked at her with a condescending smirk, dug into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette, placing it into his mouth.

"Send your parent's my thanks. I'm out." he said coolly as he lit the cigarette, puffed it and sauntered away, leaving Mellie confused, anger and most importantly very turned on.


	3. The Princess and the Officer

_Graduation Night 1976._

Mellie was observed herself in the mirror. She looked the part. Her hair was up in a high and glossy bun. She was wearing her favorite pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and a forest green peasant top. She normally did not like to be this casual, but the invitation said it was necessary.

_The first of many._ She thought to herself as she smoothed out her top. It was graduation night. And she was excited. This was the night when she was going to cut loose. This was the night she was finally going to "cut loose" as Fitz said.

Fitz. She smiled. It was funny how much he had changed. How they had become good friends. They studied, were active members of Harvard's College Republicans and hung out with a similar group of friends. They had worked hard, or at least she had over the past few years. So it was only natural that she was excited to finally see him in his element, at the graduation party at Baker House. She did not party but she figured, why the hell not? She deserved some fun; after all she had graduated summa cum laude.

"Mel, could you stop looking in the mirror for Christ sake?" Nancy Stein yelled from the doorway of their dorm room. Mellie whipped around to see her best friend standing dressed in a short red baby doll dress. Her sandy mod hairdo was blown out to meticulous perfection.

"You should not use the Lord's name in vain." Mellie said smiling at her best friend as she sat on her bed.

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Please, I'm an atheist" she said sardonically. "Christ is not exactly up my alley."

Nancy Stein was the complete antithesis of Mellie. While Mellie was icy and reserved, always think two steps ahead, Nancy was an extrovert, outspoken to the maximum. She was grateful to Nancy. At times when her limited biases about life held her back, Nancy had been there to pull her out.

"Well, I'm ready." Mellie said smiling, feeling her excitement boiling in her stomach.

"Good, I hear this one's going to be good. Not that you would know." Nancy said playfully.

"You are very right, I would not."

* * *

They walked over to Baker Hall, one of the few housing dorms for graduate students seeking professional degrees. It was a creamy Victorian style home, with dark shutters located on Massachusetts Ave, where most of the law students she knew lived. The house seemed to be bubbling over with students, and there was loud rock and roll music spilling out.

"Wow, this looks slammin'" Nancy said as they made their way onto the front steps. Frankly, the whole thing was unnerving. This was not her scene. Accompanying a few friends to a cocktail at the Porcelain Club, sure. A bunch of wild graduates, drinking and carrying on, no thanks.

"I guess you could say that." Mellie said, pursing her lips. There was a group of people, crowding the door as they tried to squeeze in, but an arm blocked Nancy and Mellie for getting in.

"Hey!" Nancy said loudly. The arm in question belong to Tim Duff, a large blond lacrosse player that Nancy used to date when they were 1L's.

"What's the password?" he said grinning jokingly.

"Your mom!" Nancy yelled flirtatious. And with that, he stepped to the side and allowed them entry. The whole thing made her uncomfortable. Girls dancing wildly, guys taking shots in every corner of the house.

_I guess I was not missing much. _Mellie thought to herself. As they made their way down the hall and toward what was supposed to be a sitting room, a putrid smell met her nose, along with a smoky haze. It was like a mix between a skunk and pine cones…

"Nancy!" she said panicked, grabbing her friends arm. Nancy was bobbing to what sounded like an electrical guitar version of "American Woman".

"What!" she screamed as they made their way into the crowded sitting room, which was packed with crowded students, cheering and dancing along. But the source of the music was not a record player, but Fitz. He was standing on top of a coffee table, a dynamite red electric guitar in hand with what was clearly a blunt in his mouth. He was wearing his signature aviators even though it was late at night.

"Oh…my…god" Nancy said before Mellie could express her disgust with the smell of marijuana.

Mellie looked opened mouth from her friend, to the crowd, to Nancy. _What in heavens was this?_

"What!" Mellie asked her friend, but she was too busy staring at Fitz, who was playing his guitar like a rock star.

"Dear god, I think I just had an orgasm!" Nancy said smiling. Mellie rolled her eyes. Not her too. She knew Nancy thought he was attractive, like most women on the campus but she was not going to have her best friend drooling over him. It was unseemly.

"Oh, please!" Mellie said pursing her lips. Fitz had finally finished playing when he did the most provocative thing she had ever seen. He pulled a girl from the crowd, a blond Farah Fawcett type onto the coffee table and began strumming random chords provocatively as she blushed profusely. And when finally finished, he removed the blunt from his mouth, pulled the girl close and blew the smoke into her mouth as she inhaled the second hand smoke. The crowd had gone wild, cheering and chanting Fitz's name as he stepped off the table, placed his guitar down and bowed.

"Jesus!" Mellie said shocked. She did not know how to react. It was grotesque, flashy and yet incredibly sexy…She needed to get out of here. It was crowded, smoking and way out of control.

"I know, and so much for saying the Lord's name." Nancy said smiling broadly at the sight before them.

"I'm taking a break!" he yelled confidently, much to the crowd's disappointment. But as Mellie moved to walk out of the room, completely overwhelmed by what she saw, Nancy grabbed her arm.

"Mel, where are you going?" She asked confused, her brown eyes still flittering between her and Fitz who was chatting up the Farah Fawcett blond. Probably a Boston University slut.

"I think this is a little too much for me, I think I'm going to-"But before she could finish, she could see Fitz and the blond approaching them from the corner of her eye.

_Dear God, this is the last thing I needed._

"Look, it's late, I came, I saw and-"

"Well, well, well look who it is." She heard a familiar voice saying. Mellie turned around slowly, a tight smile forming as she turned to face Fitz and the blond. His sunglasses were still on and his arm was around the tramp.

"Hi Fitz, how's it going?" Nancy greeted friendly, her round cheeks flushed. Fitz smirked and pulled of his sunglasses, revealing his grey eyes to be amiss. He was clearly high, seeing that the blunt was still hanging from his mouth. He took a long drag.

"Honey, be a dear and go have fun with this." He said flirtatiously to the blond, handing her his blunt. She nodded like the idiot Mellie thought she was, took the blunt and walked away.

Mellie felt an irrational anger bubbling in her stomach. He was such a jerk!

"Do you talk to all of your whores that way?" Mellie said coolly, triggering Nancy to roll her eyes.

"Same shit, different day." He said grinning stupidly. "Come on, princess; don't tell me you were jealous? But I'm still not going to strum your guitar."

"Well, I'm going to go get a drink." Nancy said suddenly, walking hurriedly out of the room. She had a tendency to do that every time she and Fitz were having their back and forth exchanges.

Mellie was annoyed. She could not put her finger on why, but she was irritated. At the party, at Nancy grabbing her arm at the wrong moment, at the world! And most importantly, this idiot, high off his face grinning at her.

"What is wrong with you? You know what, don't bother!" she said and with that, she tried to walk away, but even in his inebriated state, he was too quick. He grabbed her.

She turned to face him, but all he could do was start giggling like an idiot. She tried to shake herself out of his grip but, he was too strong.

"Let…me…go!" she said angrily. Why did she even bother being friends with such a loser?

"Look, I'm sorry okay? I'm just celebrating. It's the end of a chapter, all that good shit?" He said jovially, swaying a bit.

Mellie rolled her eyes.

"I get that but must you act like a Jimi Hendrix wannabe?" She asked sardonically.

"Well, yeah." He said confidently, he looked a bit cross eyed. He let go of her arm and smiled at her.

"Well, in that case I've had fun, enjoy your bimbo." She said coolly, turning on her heel. But before she could leave, she heard him say the strangest thing he could have possibly said.

"I'm joining the Navy!" he said loudly. Mellie stopped in her tracks. She turned around and looked at him, standing with his hands in his pocket, swaying lightly. From the look on his face, despite it all, he was not kidding.

"Wha-What?" she asked, walking back slowly toward him.

He shrugged. "My dad thinks I should straighten out so I'm headed to be in the Navy, I'm going to do Officer Candidate and I'm headed out. Naval Reserve."

The idea that he would unload this kind of news on her like this, when he was high, especially since they had been friends, was insulting. When did he decide this? Since when did his father think this to be a good idea? There had been absolutely nothing indicating he was deciding to do this. In the past few weeks all they had talked about was what they were going to do after law school. And he never mentioned that he was joining the Navy.

Mellie could no longer stand him. She hated him. He was an inconsiderate prick with no consideration for anyone's feelings but his own.

"You go to hell!" she screamed at him. He seemed confused, but Mellie did not care. She ran down the hallway, and out of the house, angered that she had let Fitz disappoint her once again.


	4. Truth Does Not Mix with Snobbery

_The Hamptons, 1981_

_Another lecture waiting for me when I get home…_Mellie thought bitterly as she took a sip of champagne. It was another hot New York Summer, blistering temperatures, which meant most of Manhattan's elite had escaped to the Hamptons. Including her family and old childhood friends, however this time around, many of her old childhood friends were paired off, engaged and married. All the more reason for her mother to put pressure on her, which had gotten so incessant, Mellie was considering going back into the city early. Being in a house for three weeks, no matter the size with her matchmaking obsessed mother was beginning to drive her absolutely insane.

But for one moment, she had been able to escape the Valmont manor. But as far as being able to escape her loneliness, well the event she was attending did not help.

Sloane Gray had always been perfect. Blonde, petite with a face of an angel, she had done all the right societal things. Maintained a good reputation, gone to college (Princeton) and gotten a job as an art curator. Unfortunately, her choices in men were not as impeccable.

She was marrying Daniel O'Malley, a working class kid from Queens who she had met at a party a few years ago. Sure, he had gone to Wharton, worked in investment banking and did well for himself, but she had married down. The wedding was quaint, with less than 100 guests on her parent's property and frankly kind of tacky. The whole thing was a backyard affair with badly catered food and little to no decoration.

Most of the attendants were college friends and family. But it was hardly the social event of the year, by the proper standards. All of the older families had balked at the idea of coming to a wedding of such degrading caliber. The only reason why Mellie was here was because she and Sloane had been horseback riding friends years ago.

_Oh, heavens dear. She could do so much better. _Mellie's mother had said over tea a few days ago when Mellie had told her mother about the wedding. Mellie felt the same. Sure he was handsome and all of those things, but what about her family? Sloane was their crown jewel. She sipped her champagne some more, she heard a voice, one that she had not heard in years.

"You have not changed a bit." Mellie whipped around so fast she almost spilled her champagne.

"Fitz!" She exclaimed a little louder than she ordinarily would. She had not seen him in years. The incident at Baker Hall…

But the man standing before her today was very different from belligerent boy he had been. He was sharply dressed in a black tuxedo and his hair was actually coifed appropriately. He was still as handsome as he had been then but his tan was deeper than she had ever seen it, bringing out his sparkling grey eyes rather beautifully.

"Hi, it's been too long." He smiled, extending a hand for her to shake. _Well, this is new. _She studied the hand for a second longer and then shook it. It was big, warm yet very calloused.

"Yeah. It has, I thought you were-"

"I was but my time was up." He said smiling politely at her. Mellie was very taken aback by the change in his demeanor, it was very calm and mature. It was making her nervous and sweaty. Hopefully her dress was not stained with sweat marks. It was Yves Saint Laurent after all. She took a un-lady like gulp from her champagne glass to cool herself down.

"Oh, that's good to hear, nice to know you are alive. So what are you up to?" She asked curious_. What was he doing here?_

"Well, I'm getting settled back into civilian life, so there's that. And I'm an associate at _Cromwell & Sidney_, just got the job so it's back to California after this week. How about you?"

Mellie smiled tightly. Cromwell & Sidney was one of the preeminent law firms on the West Coast. She was impressed. A few years ago, he probably would have scoffed at the idea of working at a place like that.

"Well that's nice." She said politely. She was beginning to feel the sweat pooling under her arms.

"It's really hot out here, do you want to maybe, go on the patio and catch up?"

Mellie nodded. That's what this was about. The sweating and the nervousness, it was heat. Nothing more. She followed him from the expansive backyard of the Gray compound, through the dancing couples, and onto the cooler patio, which was covered by a large white tarp.

"Are you sure we belong here?" Mellie asked hushed, observing the fact that most of the wait staff had gathered, rowdily drinking beers.

"Sure, I'm sure they don't mind" he said shrugging as he grabbed a spare chair and pulled it into a corner. He motioned for Mellie to sit down.

"Hey, man! Pass me two beers….Thanks" He said walking over to a freckled waiter. The man nodded and passed Fitz two Heinekens. He walked over and leaned against the patio wall, handing Mellie the beer but Mellie shook her head. Beer at a wedding? How quaint.

"Still a princess after all these years." He said observing her coolly. Mellie rolled her eyes and shot him a furtive look. Some things really just do not change.

"I am not."

"Yes you are. You're at a wedding, standing all by your lonesome drinking champagne and sulking. It's a beautiful day, in the Hamptons mind you. If I had not come over, what would you have done?" He beamed down at her, which caused Mellie to shift around nervously in her seat.

"What are you doing here anyway? Should you not be in California crashing a car or screwing a prostitute?" Mellie shot back. She was not going to stand here and listen to him poke fun at her again. They were not law students anymore. Hell, they were not even friends any longer. She was just being polite. She had not seen him in years, thought he might have been dead somewhere. The least he could do was show some respect.

He smiled, finished his bottle and began drinking the second bottle. He looked off in the distance with a wistful look in his eye.

"I'm not that person anymore Mellie. And for your information, Sloane and I are friends. Her father and my father play golf." His voice took on a serious tone. He looked down at Mellie and cocked an eyebrow as if to challenge her to say something more.

"What do you mean you're not the same person?" Mellie asked coolly. "You're still drinking? Are you not?" She said pointing to the two beer bottles in his hand. He shot her a bemused expression and laughed. He still had that same booming, rich laugh.

"I was in the Navy, Mel, not prep school. Doing tours, being around guys from different backgrounds, races and classes makes you realize how lucky you are. And yes, while I still may have the occasional drink like now, does not mean I'm some belligerent drunk." He was smirking at her again. Mellie was beginning to feel the sweat pouring down her body. It did not help that he took his tuxedo jacket off and slung it around Mellie's chair, briefly brushing his hand against her shoulder when he did that.

"Damn it's hot. But enough about me, what about you? Are you married, job, what's going on?" he asked. He seemed generally interested.

Mellie gave him the rundown. She was working for her father's company, doing charity work and lived in Manhattan full time.

"Are you dating anyone?" He asked nicely. Mellie looked him deep in the eye to gage his intention. _So it is just a friendly question._ No she was not at the moment, but she was not going to let him have the upper hand.

"Are you?" she asked coldly.

"Yeah. Her name is Annabelle, she works for Bank of Madrid." For some reason, the comment cooled Mellie's skin. _Of course, she was foreign._

"So she's Spaniard?" She asked, smoothing out the blue chiffon of her dress and tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

She could feel Fitz's eyes on her as she fussed with her dress.

"Her mom is, her dad was Italian and grew up in Modena, it's a part of Emilia-Romagna in Italy." Mellie forced herself to look up at him. There was a twinkle in his eye from talking about this woman.

Typical. She thought to herself. Always chasing the latest hottest thing.

"So if she works for Bank of Madrid, how do you see her?" Mellie asked mockingly. She had a gut instinct they were not serious. Just another fling that he was too embarrassed to admit was simply that.

"She works with the markets, so she travels back and forth. She's actually in New York so I'm going to spend the week with her before I head out to California again." This made her uncomfortable all of a sudden. So it was serious.

She tried to roll her eyes but it did not work. He smiled widely as though he had caught Mellie at her game.

"If you must ask, we are serious, so you can spare me the whole rigmarole about keeping it in my pants. We've been dating long distance ever since I was discharged. Which was about seven months ago. The least you can do is be happy for me." He finished coolly, taking his last gulp of the second bottle. Mellie was scandalized. Of course she was happy for him, what the hell was that about? With his past it was only natural to ask.

"You are too full of yourself." She said folding her arms and staring at him indignantly, but at this he grabbed his tuxedo jacket and rolled his eyes.

"You know, I was hoping we could catch up-"

"Is that not what we are-"

"No!" he said angrily, leaning toward Mellie. There it was again. His cologne, intoxicating and consuming her senses like it used to years ago. "I'm beginning to suspect that you are incapable of having a decent conversation with me Mel, I liked you as a person once upon a time, despite it all. But at this point in my life, I don't know if I have the patience for your snobbery and condescension. It used to be funny but now it is just annoying."

She stood up, facing him, seething. He had no right. They had not spoken in years. Who was he to make judgments and cast aspersions?

"How dare-"But he cut her off.

"You know, in an alternative universe, I might have actually fallen for you. But until you face the fact that that will never happen, we can't be friends, because it's clear, very clear that you don't care about my feelings or even me. Stop with the jealously, because frankly you don't want me. You just don't want anyone else to have me! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to throw these bottles out. Myself, unlike you _princess_." He stalked off, shaking his head, leaving Mellie even more uncomfortable than before. Not because it was hot or because of the wait staff who were staring at her. But because every word he had said was true.


	5. The Security of Deception

_California, 1987._

Very few things in life shock Mellie. When she was six, her mother tried to throw her a surprise party, but she had been onto it the whole time. The decorations, the rearranging of the furniture in her playroom in their Upper East Side townhouse and the fact that she had been standing outside her mother's study while she was on the phone with the baker and sealed her suspicion. But on the day, of the birthday party, like the good little girl she was, Mellie pretended to be shocked for her parents, her school chums and their parents.

It had been her motto in life ever since, however giving people what they want was no longer applicable. That unfortunate day when she had arrived in her mid-town office, ready to work had changed her life for the long haul.

_ Sweetie, I know this is hard, but you need to know how difficult things are. We are downsizing, the firm is losing liquidity and frankly I don't know if I can gather the proper investors to keep us afloat. _He had said kindly. But his whole demeanor read of defeat. That had been the opening gun shot. First, there was her firing. Then there was the meeting with the attorneys the week later.

_Ducky, these things happen. But we are a proud people, and we will do what's best. _Her mother said stoically as they sat in the car back home. Mellie had never felt so tempted to slap her mother in her life in that moment. How dare she? Her father, the dumb fuck had taken a billion dollar company and brought it to its knees. How in the world where they broke? They were fucking Valmonts! Her father had a 200 million dollar trust fund?

_There were sacrifices we had to make! _Katherine Valmont had said elegantly. But she knew what that meant. It meant years of keeping up with appearances, expensive parties and financing her mother's diamond habit. But now, she was living with a burden. A secret that very few people knew. Her parent's had paid people a lot of money to keep their financial story out of the papers. Money they really could use. But the accountant had found most of their debts; they had cut back on their expenses and had sold a few of their properties. But the most scandalous thing of all was the fact that they drained her of 80% of trust fund, leaving her with barely enough.

_Well, if this has taught you everything, it is the importance of securing a feature. _Her mother said coldly at dinner that night. Mellie walked away from the table and for the first time cried. She ran up the stairs and locked herself into her room, bawling for hours. All of her plans, to travel, do charity work, were gone.

As much as she would love to get another job, it was not as easy. Very few Wall Street firms wanted to hire a woman, despite her knowledge in mergers and acquisition. She remembers one loudmouth trader who she had asked for advice saying: _Lady! Ha! Little socialite like yourself should go get married, settle down, and have fucking lunch._

So she had focused her energy on her philanthropy and socializing, looking for a means to secure her future.

Mellie had always prided herself on being a lady, one who was discreet about her sexual life. She had one sexual partner in her whole existence. Tim Duff, the blond lacrosse player. Sure he had dated her best friend in law school, but he was charming and rugged in that Clint Eastwood sort of way. And the Duffs were very much respected in their inner circle, seeing that they were very into the shipping industry. It had not been the best of experiences but at least she had not graduated a virgin.

She had been on several dates. With Brads, Bryces and the Alistairs of her world who were appropriate suitors. Some of them had been interesting, she had even been in a long term relationship with Spencer Ellis, of the financial powerhouse Ellis's. But despite how loving and attentive he had been, time and time again, he had chosen coke over her.

After the breakup, she had enough. Of New York, of the endless dates and had formulated a genius plan that all started when she had seen Fitzgerald Grant speaking at a fundraiser for the Governor of New York. He had changed so much since she had last seen him….

* * *

_It was like he had gotten more handsome._ She thought as he wove his way through and eloquent outline of how the Republican Party needed to reach out to young people and the disenfranchised more.

Was she romantically interested, no. Despite the accomplishments, becoming partner at _Cromwell & Sidney_ in four years, the charity work, then finally being appointed one of California's youngest attorney generals, she could still see that cocky aloofness that she hated. They had nothing in common and it was still difficult to stomach being in the same room with him, but like the good little girl her mother raised her to be, she knew how to act.

But after moving to California and getting a job at Cromwell, courtesy of her father pulling strings, they had developed something of a friendly rapport. The Grants thanks to his father's post-gubernatorial career in paid speeches and his mother's massive fortune where very financially secure. And for newer money, they were not particularly ostentatious. She had done her research. Why not? She would always be a Valmont in the books. Why not make history and secure a future with a man everyone was speculating was going to become president someday?

* * *

"This is very, umm…quaint." Mellie said politely of Fitzgerald's San Fernando Valley apartment. It was a typical bachelor pad with a lot of records, posters of guitars and bare floors. The walls were painted an obnoxious red and the whole place smelled like marijuana.

"Yeah, it's not exactly a palace but I like it." he smiled motioning for to follow him. As a polite gesture, he had invited her over to dinner. She had done her best to look casual and had a few shots to loosen up before coming. If things were going to go as plan, she needed to be convincing.

"As you should." She dug around in her pocketbook and pulled out a bottle of gin. "Here you go." She smiled superficially as she handed him the bottle.

"Thanks! Wow, I did not know you were so hard core?" he said bemused as they made their way into the kitchenette. There was a small island, mounds of Chinese food containers and two wine glasses set up.

Mellie laughed as she made herself comfortable on one of the stools. She observed the counters. Limestone was tacky.

"Well, you know I felt like martini's are in order. WASP's honor." He laughed again. Good, he would think she had a sense of humor. He grabbed plates outside of the cabinet and handed her one.

"So, how's work?" he asked as he began spooning shrimp and broccoli on his plate.

Mellie smiled tightly. "It's going well, it's very different from finance but it's good. But your work is more fascinating. Tell me about what it's like?" she said in her friendliest voice possible. To her ears, it sounded a little forced, but Fitz seemed to buy it.

"It's so fulfilling, having all of these responsibilities. We are meeting with the Governor to crack down on the crime in the urban areas…."

Mellie nodded, smiled, laughed throughout the whole night. Pretending to be interested in the good Samaritan routine. Frankly, she thought he was way too liberal in his views, did not focus enough of efficiency and was all about good feelings. But that was the least of her worries. She had inundated him with her mother's "Famous martinis", a mixture of apple juice, gin, lemon and cranberries. Surprisingly all of which he had in his little vintage refrigerator.

* * *

They had moved from the kitchen to his bedroom and where now sitting on his bed. He was drunk, but still functioning…

"Can I let you in on a little secret?" Fitz said, slurring slightly. He was a lot touchier with a few drinks in him, seeing that his hand was so high on Mellie's leg, it was almost near her crotch. And it was making her uncomfortable.

_Breathe Mellie.._

She really did not care. She just wanted to do what she came to do and get it over with. She had no intention of getting involved in some Ivy Tower bullshit argument over the impressionist era and which artist was more relevant to modern culture.

"What?" she asked with so much fake cheer that she was pretty sure he would have picked up on if he was not so drunk.

He closed his eyes, lying on his back on the bed and sighed deeply. His face took on a face of wistful peace.

"I have not had sex in two years. I'm trying this whole celibacy thing." He said softly. The admit ion made her adrenaline race with excitement. It meant this was a lot easier than she thought it was going to be.

"Really, why?" Mellie asked nervously as his hand rubbed her thigh softly. _This is your in._

"Cleansing. I've spent so much of my time just chasing women and fucking the nearest thing in sight that I've lost track of me. I mean I'm hor-"

But before he could finish, Mellie leaned forward and kissed him. She was not going to lie, he was a good kisser, but it wasn't anything special. No magical feelings, no nothing. But before she could maneuver her way on top of him, he broke away from her.

"Wait, Wa-, what is this? What are we doing?" He asked curious. Mellie tried hard not to role her eyes.

"Look, we are both adults, we've known each other for years-" but he shook his head. His grey eyes maybe have been glossed over with intoxication but they looked confused.

"I know but, I don't…I don't think I was clear, I invited you over as a friend, I don't want anything from you. Like I'm not look for some kind of thing here." he said softly.

_Okay, Mellie regroup. You need to convince him…._

"I know. Neither am I. But does not mean we cannot have fun, no?" she asked putting on her best seductive voice. She climbed on top of him, pushed him down and whispered. "No one has to know."

* * *

Bar none, he was the best sex she had ever had. Drunk and all. It had been exhausting, they had gone multiple rounds but there was no spark. He seemed disinterested, unfocused and after they were done, he rolled over and fell asleep.

_Good, I don't have to talk to you. _She thought annoyed as she got dressed and crept out of the apartment.

She reflected on her experience with him as she made her way into the elevator and into the parking lot gingerly. She felt a little sore. This was natural seeing that it had been a while and he was not exactly the smallest person in the world.

As she got into her Mercedes, she caught a glimpse of herself in the car mirror. Her lips were not swollen, seeing that they did not do much kissing, but her hair was a wild mess.

She dug around in her bag, into her make-up bag and unfolded a silk handkerchief. Magnums….

The unused condom that she gladly did not have to use. Originally the plan had been to dig a hole. But he had bought her "I'm on the pill" defense. He really was as stupid as she thought. She placed it back into the bag, grabbed her keys and started her car, driving away. She checked the date on the dashboard. Good, she was ovulating….things were going to go as plan after all.


	6. Naivete Was Never Attractive

_California….1990_

"For God sake, Karen, stop fidgeting!" Mellie said frustrated as her daughter slid out of her lap for the hundredth time. The little brat was wrinkling her dress. The hustle and bustle of the day was enough for her to deal with without having her daughter adding to her aggravation. But then again after years of irritation, there was nothing that really could push her buttons anymore. The grating feeling of being pissed off every waking second of her life had slowly worn down to a dull annoyance. So a restless toddler was a walk in the park.

But that is was what happens when one is trapped. It was nights like this, the fundraisers, the dinner parties, and elections when she and Fitz had to be "on" that she hated the most. She could do the interviews and campaign events. But sitting back stage, waiting for him to give his victory speech was hardly her idea of a good time. It was psyching her out.

_Let's hope I can turn it on when I get out there. _She thought wearily as she tried to sit Karen, who was wiggling out of her grip again.

"Mel, maybe I should hold her?" Fitz offered kindly, looking over to her. _What could it hurt?_

"Here!" Mellie said coldly, handing the little girl to her father, not even looking at him. She smoothed out her dress and began drumming her fingers on her thigh.

."Hey, cutie, what's wrong?" he cooed, straightening out Karen's amiss hairband.

Mellie observed him carefully as he began bounced Karen on his knees, getting her to giggle. He was cut out for this sort of thing. Fatherhood. It , in part had won them the gubernatorial seat. The warmth, the charm and most importantly, the priceless images of Fitz as the doting father while they were on the campaign trail. But the sight of Fitz and Karen giggling happily made her nauseous. More so because it was a reminder on what was on the way.

She was three months pregnant with their second child. In part, it had been planned, at least for her anyway. As a political strategist advised her over lunch once, a young family with a growing family did wonders for the family values voters. Fitz had been naïve enough to believe that she genuinely wanted more children. He had been ecstatic, pleased that Mellie was making an actual effort in the marriage. But there were some hiccups in the plan...

"Look, I know we aren't a fairy tale, but at least we should try to make this work." He had said kindly over dinner months ago the night she had bullshitted her plan to him. This had become his unique way of acknowledging the problems in their marriage…like the lack of romantic feelings at all. But Fitz, being the eternal optimist was always looking at the bright side. _Not a fairytale, but make it work._

The very fact that the intention of why they were having another baby was entirely political was a disturbing yet suitable analogy for their marriage.

To say it was a marriage of convenience would be a little ill-fitting. More like a marriage of circumstance. Like the fact that she had become pregnant and he, at the time was a young attorney general trying to recover from the playboy image that dogged him in his younger years. So they had done the honorable thing. They got married and played their parts. Mellie was the supporting wife, and Fitz was the loving husband. In Fitz's mind, he was being responsible, grown up. He had little idea that their marriage of circumstance had been Mellie's doing. And she preferred to keep it that way.

What the cheering crowd awaiting Fitz did not know was Mellie and Fitz did not share the same bedroom. Unless they had guest. And the only times they had been intimate sexually were the two times when attempting to getting Mellie pregnant.

She would keep her end of the bargain, but on her terms.

What the cheering crowd, did not know was the family values they seemed to promote were hardly picture perfect….

* * *

"If you want to test the baby upon delivery to make you feel better it would probably be best." Mellie said matter of factly to her stunned husband. It had been a good night for him. His speech had gone off like gangbusters and he had been alight with the afterglow of shaking hands and thanking his supporters. But all of that had changed when they had gotten home and she had broken the news to him.

"You've got to be kidding me…" he said softly, his head in his hands. He looked as though he were going crazy, eyes were wide with shock and his neck red as a beet.

All the more reason that Mellie could not feel sorry for him, but it was a little ridiculous. He always was so quick to go for the histrionics.

"Fitz-" Mellie started but he got off the bed and began pacing the bedroom as though trying to calm himself down. He was breathing rather hard and his hands were balled into tight fits.

"Look, I don't understand why you are being too dramatic about this, you had to suspect-"

"Shut up!" Fitz yelled, his veins popping out of his neck violently. Mellie felt her mouth drop open. That was a bit much.

"Excuse me?" Mellie asked confused. "What are you yelling about?"

But at her question , he stared at her incredulously. It was as though she had sprouted three heads. The whole sight of him, his tie loose, the first buttons on his shirt unbuttoned was unsettling.

"You….bitch…you- of all the fucking things you could tell me on the night, the night! Of my fucking election win to tell me that the baby in your fucking womb may not be mine?" He was getting closer and closer to her with every word, so much so that she had to sit on the bed, to avoid being too close to him. The sheer rage in his eyes and demeanor sent a shiver down her spine. Her blood was going cold as he heaved deeply. He looked as though he were restraining himself from hurting her.

"There isn't a right way to say these things." Mellie said quietly, looking down at her red toenails to avoid his penetrating gaze.

"You are unbelievable! You-" but before he could go on any further, she looked up and held up a hand to stop him.

"Fitz, are you really that naïve? We don't sleep in the same room, we barely have sex and you and I have our own lives. I'm not saying it's true I'm just saying if you needed the comfort of knowing the truth, it would be behoove of you to get a paternity test, that's all." Her voice was trembling, and rightfully so, as Fitz's eyes glazed over with what only could be described as boiling hatred.

Mellie got off the bed and began to walk toward the door, but before she knew it, there was a vice like grip on her arm. She turned around gingerly and for the first time in a long while, was in very close proximity to her husband. Sure, his grey eyes were hard as stone with loathing, but as she looked deeply in his eyes, she could see something…Shame, maybe? Hurt?

"Was it Tim?" he asked coldly. She rolled her eyes and turned to walk out but he yanked on her arm again. She was in no mood for this. But she knew in her hesitant gut that he would not let her get away with anymore discretion.

"No. It was Brad." She breathed in deeply, waiting for his reaction. He grimaced angrily.

"Well, that's original. My college roommate. Nice touch." Mellie could feel the heat building up in her body. The fearful hesitancy had given away to anger. He did not get to judge her.

"Don't go there with me. You have your whores and I have mine." She said so coldly, it had come to a shock to even herself.

Fitz's grimacing face transformed, with an instant, suddenly awash with bewilderment. He closed his eyes and let go of her arm, taking several steps back. _Great even more dramatics._

"Mel-" But his voice cracked. He took a deep breath and started over again. "I….I haven't been with anyone since we got married. I mean, sure, I've flirted, I've had phone conversations but I kept telling myself, 'I have a daughter, a career.' And yes, while you may not have been my first choice, or even someone I love, I needed to be a grown man. Grow up, and stop disappointing my family." He choked on his final words, and put his hand to his mouth and began pacing again.

Mellie rolled her eyes at his soliloquy. Who was he kidding and how pathetic. Was she really supposed to believe that? She looked at him, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Okay, maybe he was being somewhat truthful, but he was going to really make her feel guilty about this.

"You know what, I don't need this. Somehow because you were "faithful" to a woman you married because of what, obligation, I'm supposed to feel bad for you? What about the years you stuck your cock into anything that looked like it was born below the equator?"

He looked up at her, looking even more pathetic than he had a few seconds ago, sending warm feelings of happiness throughout her body. But before this could manifest into a smile, seeing how much she had crushed his spirits, she spun on her heel and made her way out the door, smirking.

_What a sucker…_She thought as she made her way down the hall. Naiveté was never attractive.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note:

Hi, hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. This is more in response to the following review because it got me thinking:

_When you originally started this story, I thought you were going to make us feel sorry for Mellie, but after reading the last two chapters, I guess you changed your mind? Mellie is completely unlikeable with no redeeming qualities. Does Mellie have to be completely unlikeable for us to want to ship Fitz and Olivia? Just curious. I think so, but I wonder what other people think?_

My intent with this story is to make Mellie neither a sympathetic, nor evil character. It was to make her complex. I am someone who likes to explore the themes of nature v. nurture. There will be future interactions with her mother and people from her world that will explain the rationale behind her behavior. The unveiling of her nature happens over the years, but during this particular period, she is incredibly bitter seeing that she went out of her way to make her life "what it was supposed to be."

She was born and bred, at least in my mind to be competitive and be the best. The tragedy of a woman like her is she is so engrained with the need to do what she has to do; she does not know any other way to survive. Not to give too much away but I feel as though she is a woman deprived of love, not because of circumstance or bad luck like Fitz and Olivia, but because of an inability to love because she was never taught how to. And in the end, it will become very clear. But thank you all for your reviews, I really appreciate them, and I hope this clears up any confusion about the direction of the character (Which I do not own, she belongs to Ms. Rhimes. lol)


	8. A Sip, A Jab and a Few More Revelations

_The Grant Ranch…..1994_

Mellie was on her second glass of wine. It was rather unusual seeing that she was not much of a drinker. But then again, she dared anyone to not take a drink of anything stronger than malt when Elizabeth Grant came around. Particularly given the circumstances…

Her mother in law and she had a rather odd relationship over the course of her marriage. It was neither cold, nor a warm relationship but one full of formalities and comments of the older woman that often felt double handed. Very different from the nicer relationship they had before she and Fitz had gotten married.

_Oh, honey I'm sure the children are every bit as stressful as you say they are_. Elizabeth had said over the phone once when Mellie had expressed her frustration with raising two children while being married to a governor. Her tone, which was over the top enough to be mocking, but still, had that hint of warmth. It was a very "Grant" trait that she recognized in her own husband, the talent to speak in double meaning. This was great trait for a politician to have, but a rather annoying one when she and Fitz were sitting in dinner party and party bigwigs were asking you about your marriage.

_So, you two lovebirds, what is your secret to a successful marriage? The wife of a RNC official asked them last night._

_Mutual hatred, loathing, gentlemen, take up a mistress. Fitz had joked. Or so Mellie thought. As the whole table rolled with laughter, Fitz looked Mellie, his eyes dancing in the dim candlelight of the restaurant. The smirk on his lips and his relaxed demeanor would suggest he was being his normal jokester self. But she knew him better than that…another subtle dig. He was telling the truth through humor._

Mellie sighed deeply, checking her watch. It was eleven. Elizabeth had promised she would be here at ten.

_For someone who claims to want to see me so badly, she picked a weird time. _Mellie thought as she poured more Merlot into the large wine glass and took a large gulp. But before she could set the glass down, she heard the clacking of footsteps against the marble. She stood up from the kitchen island and walked toward the entrance to see Elizabeth Grant, walking toward the kitchen.

She was still, despite her age a great beauty. Tall, lithe with a sculpted face and bright celery green eyes, her kind of classic beauty did not exist anymore. It was as if every inch of her face were perfect, from her ski pert nose, to her thin, well defined lips. She was dressed in tapered black slacks, a crisp dress shirt with an upturned collar, and a black quilted Chanel purse slug on her delicate shoulders. Typical East Coast chic.

"Hello, Melody, are you going to greet an old lady or are you going to stand there like an idiot." She rasped with a smirk, her eyes dancing in that all too familiar way that made Mellie's skin boil.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I'm just a little out of it." She said smiling tightly, as she motioned for the older woman to follow her into the bright kitchen.

Elizabeth snorted as she took a seat behind island and looked from the opened wine bottle to Mellie. How embarrassing.

"Oh, honey, I could see why. But I won't hold it against you, WASP's honor." She said with that smile. Mellie laughed forcefully as her body went cold. She could feel the goose bumps on her neck. Why the hell would she say something like that? Elizabeth was old school, decedent of American royalty practically and was of one of the only families in the Northeast older than the Valmonts. And the one thing women like her did not do was make jokes about class, or being WASPs….and that joke sounded so familiar.

"Well, there's nothing like a nice wine in the morning, but a Merlot is a bit much, no, I would personally prefer a red zinfandel. So how are you, where are my lovely grandchildren?" Elizabeth asked looking around as if expecting Karen and Jerry to pop out of the cabinet.

"Oh! They are with their father at the governor's mansion." Mellie said trying to maintain restraint. She could not afford to hedge.

But the of course, Elizabeth was no fool. She her cocked her head and puckered her lips.

"Huh. That's odd. I thought Fitz and the children were spending the weekend here?" she rasped her Boston accent more pronounced seeing that she spoke slowly.

"Well, I thought so too but Fitz and I had a late dinner last night with a few party officials, he was incredibly worn out-"

"Yes, I can see why sitting on your hind while eating food and kissing hind would be exhausting. My son works hard, but that does not explain why the children are not…here." She crossed her arms and tilted her aristocratic chin up.

Mellie's eyes darted around the bright kitchen. How do you tell your mother in law to fuck off without being rude?

"Well…you know that Fitz barely gets to see the children throughout the week, I'm with them all the time, so why not have them spend some time with their daddy?" Mellie said with force cheer. More smirking from Elizabeth ensued.

"Of course, how logical! Kindly grab me a wine glass dear, the drive from Brentwood was rough."

"Oh, you drove here yourself?" Mellie asked as she walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a wine glass.

"Well, of course, I'm old dear not dead. And speaking of which, why is there no help on the grounds?" Mellie gulped. Observant, how annoying.

She placed the wine glass slowly on the table, as though putting down a chess piece.

"I gave them the weekend off."

There was silence radiating through the room that had nothing to do with how peaceful the grounds were. Mellie was trying her best to maintain a polite smile as Elizabeth stared her right in the eye, as though trying to challenge her to give another excuse. And shockingly enough, the older woman smiled widely as a triumphant glimmer circled her irises. Elizabeth took a deep sigh, readjusted herself in her seat and began pouring wine into the glass. But when she was done, she did not take a sip. She merely moved the glass out of her way and leaned onto the island.

"Melody, dear, I'm a smart woman. Maybe I did not go to law school, because in my day that sort of thing was frowned upon, but I can read things rather clearly. I personally thought that Annabelle girl would have been fabulous for my Fizzy, but his father had other ideas. You see, you getting pregnant, while shocking-"as she said the word shocking, she put her dainty hands in air quotes.

"…was just what my husband needed to, how do you say _push_ Fizzy into the right direction. So the stars were aligned. Very few people from our world marry happily. Your parents being one of the only people I know who have. Me, on the other hand, despite my mother's wishes married the man I love. And I have been happy since." Mellie wasn't sure where this conversation was going. She opened her mouth attempting to say something but the older woman held a finger up. She picked up the wine glass and took a sip, all the while holding her finger in the air.

"Now, where was I? Yes, of course. Now look, we all heard the rumors, the bankruptcy and of course when your father sold the Aspen property, it confirmed a suspicion I had. And I understand, you need to support your lifestyle, and you and my son have an agreement. But if this begins to scar my grandchildren, in anyway, you will regret it."

Mellie felt a shiver up her spine. This woman was good. Very good.

"Elizabeth-"

"Call me Mrs. Grant, ducky, I've earned it." She snapped as she took another sip of wine.

Mellie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"Mrs. Grant, look, it is not an agreement but there are certain-"

"Oh you can spare the pontificating, darling, my son and I, unlike you and I have a great relationship. He tells me a lot. He's hurting. Deeply. Not because of these uptight, Alex P. Keaton types that you have rendezvous with but he worries about the children. Wondering if on day they will accidently walk in on their mother in a compromising position." Her voice was stern, taking on a business like tone.

Mellie was speechless. She could kill Fitz. What went on in their marriage was no one's business but their own. The idea that he was divulging her private business to his mother was preposterous. How dare he? And to bring the children into it? Sure, she was hardly June Cleaver, but she had grown to accept motherhood. So what, she took a weekend off and now all of a sudden she was some neglectful whore?

"Mrs. Grant, I don't know where you are getting your-"

But as she began talking, Elizabeth rolled her eyes, stood up and began walking toward the door.

"Just remember dear." She started stopping in the doorway of the entrance. "This is my family home. The money you spend, the food you eat, come from me. Fitz's father has done well, but a large part of Fitz's trust fund came from me, which by in large comes from my inheritance. You may not have to be in love, but just remember…you have nothing and will have nothing if you leave my son. Be careful, and good day."

And with that, she walked out the kitchen, leaving Mellie to drown herself in the rest of the wine.


	9. Cut off clashes with a Checkmate

_Six months later…._

"Now I know my opponent wants to make the argument that I'm some fascist extremist conservative, but the reality simply refutes these claims. But I guess when you're running against a governor who has lowered the crime rates across the board, has balanced the budget and lowered taxes; it's hard to run on an actual platform!" Fitz said impassioned from behind the podium. The crowd roared with approval and thunderous applause. When he was on, he was on. The cadence in his baritone was perfection to listen to as he delivered what could only be described as a knock out speech.

Mellie was once again sitting at a campaign event, watching her husband give another speech. The event in question took place at the Beverly Hills Hilton hotel, in its illustrious ballroom, packed with the best and brightest of the California Republican delegation, high-profile donors and Grant loyalists. While most candidates opted for tacky venues with rubbery food, the Grant campaign always went for the best, if Mellie had anything to do with it.

She had taken a more active role in her husband's political career, running a blue commission on crime in the urban areas and acting as an informal advisor for his re-election campaign. Her reasons for this were varied. For starters, being a political wife was hardly mentally stimulating. All it required was her staying home and hosting fundraising events in their home. Not to mention, the kids would sometimes drive her crazy. But the more prominent reason had more to do with the man sitting next to her, Fitz's campaign manager.

Brad Young, Fitz's college roommate and her lover of many years was a former lobbying maestro turned political strategist best known for helping Republican candidates get elected in generally Democratic districts. And in order for them to see each other without raising the eyebrows of the public, it only made sense for her to join the campaign as an actual advocate.

"Our boy is doing great, is he not?" Brad asked, beaming, his eyes still on Fitz who was once again, running down his housing policy if he won re-election.

Mellie smiled tightly. She looked around to make sure no one was listening and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Not as well as I want to do you." she said huskily. A wide smile spread across Brad's handsome face. He was attractive in the way Mellie liked which was big, stocky and athletic. Not to mention, he had California sun-kissed skin, freckles and strawberry blond hair. These were cherries on the proverbial sundae that was her lover. Sure, Fitz was handsome, but he was too movie star handsome, too perfect, and too clean shaven. Brad on the other hand, was a real man.

Mellie's face spread into a smile as she sat back in her chair to continue watching the speech. But she could feel Brad turn toward her again. He leaned in so close; Mellie could feel the hairs on her back rise with excitement.

"You've been overly naughty tonight." He whispered seductively, allowing his lips to linger around her ear a little while longer than he should. But before her face could spread into another smile, she could see even from about fifteen feet away, Fitz's grey eyes sparkling with annoyance as he stared right at her.

* * *

Brad collapsed on top of her as he emptied himself inside her. They had disappeared after the handshaking and schmoozing of tonight's dinner. They always found a way…

When the event was over and the crowd pilled out the hotel lobby, she had pretended to leave to the car early to wait for Fitz; she in fact, snuck back into the hotel and met him in their usual hotel room. It had been a short, yet satisfying episode. And yet, here they were, sweaty and out of breath while Brad rolled off her and onto his back.

"I needed that." Brad said quietly. Mellie looked over at him. His eyes were closed in contentment and he was licking is full lips. He looked so peaceful. But the shiny, glistening beads of sweat building upon his brow were making her feel disgusting. _I need to shower._

She swung her legs off the plush bed but as her feet touched the carpet, she felt Brad's hand grab her wrist.

"Hey, where you going?" he asked, looking perplexed. Mellie looked at him and smirked. What a chump. It was getting late; she had already gotten what she had come for. What did he mean where was she going?

"I'm going to shower and leave. Fitz has a bunch of campaign events tomorrow, Karen has her first parent teacher conference and I am being interviewed by channel 6. Come on, get off." She said casually as she shook her arm out of his grasp. But he did not let go. He looked into her eyes, his hazel eyes wide with sadness.

_Great, he's going to start this shit again. _Mellie thought darkly as she made another attempt to sake herself out of his grasp. This time, he let go.

She began to retrieve the pile of clothes from the floor, but as she made way to pick up her Prada pumps, she heard Brad sucking his teeth.

"Look." Mellie began tiredly. "We've talked about this. You know the rules. Don't do this now." But at this, Brad's eyebrows furrowed confused. Despite how handsome he was, he had his moments of being rather unattractive…like now.

"Mellie, I'm getting tired of this." He said quietly, still looking confused. "Are you ever going to act like you actually talk about this?"

Mellie rolled her eyes, ignoring him, picked up her clothes and marched into the bathroom. But before she could step into the marble shower, she caught a reflection of herself in the mirror. Her auburn hair was wild and sticky, her face shiny with sweat. But her eyes, clear, blue and piercing were empty, vacant and drained. She was exhausted. Exhausted of sleeping with a man she did not love, exhausted of being married to a man she could not stand, exhausted of feeling dead and detached from everything around her.

She took a deep sigh, dropped her clothes and stepped into the shower. As she turned on the faucet, she let the water run over her body, hoping to wash way the emptiness she felt. In some sick way, she wished that she had a conventional marriage with Fitz or at least a marriage where he would have sex with her. That way she could get rid of Brad. She only kept him around for sex. After all, she was human and had to take the edge off. But Fitz refused to touch her, despite knowing that Jerry was really his son, and despite their mutual understanding, they were still nothing more than roommates with children.

Mellie wondered, as she grabbed a bar of the pre-wrapped hotel soap what he did for sex? He had made it very clear despite their unusual arrangement; he would not step outside of their marriage.

_I've grown up, unlike you. _He loved to say. But with his duties as governor, and how attentive he was as a father, it was understandable that he no longer had the time. Sometimes when she looked him in the eye, she recognized the same dead and exhausted expression…the signs of lack of passion. The signs of the loss of will to live life.

* * *

When Mellie got home that night, she walked to the kitchen to get a drink to find Fitz in a grey Navy shirt and checkered boxers with a bowl of popcorn and policy papers keeping him busy. His face was screwed up in concentration as he rubbed his growing five o'clock shadow.

"You're up late." Mellie observed as she placed her purse on the island and rummaged around for a wine glass.

She heard him chuckle as she pulled out a glass and made her way to the wine cooler under the island and grabbed a chilled Merlot.

"I've got work to do. And besides, I'm always up late. I'm just down here to stuff my face." he said distracted, not even bothering to look up from his work. He grabbed a hand full of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. Mellie was pretty sure Fitz was doing that on purpose to bug her.

"Ew…can you chew like a normal person." Mellie snapped, uncorking the bottle and pouring wine generously into the glass.

She studied him as he rolled his eyes and continued to concentrate on his work. Now would be a good time to tell him. She had decided on her way home it was for the best. She needed a change of pace.

"Fitz, I need to ask a favor." She said in a business like voice. He looked up at her and shrugged.

"Shoot".

She sighed, took a sip of wine and pursed her lips. She hated when he said "Shoot." _Anything to annoy the fuck out of me, little prick!_

"I need you to fire Brad." She said matter of factly. But his face took on an expression of cool indifference.

"Umm…why?"

"He's getting too attached. Tried to proclaim feelings and such. Just get rid of him." Mellie rolled her eyes. Fitz smirked, shaking his head and returning his gaze to the papers, not even bothering to inquire.

"Sure. I was thinking of bring in my old political science professor as chief of staff, but I guess he's going to get more than he bargained for. He should love being campaign manager, seeing that he gets to boss me around again." He said causally jotting down something or another on his papers.

Mellie nodded as she took another sip and let a pregnant pause fill the air. Interesting…

She grabbed her purse and the wine glass and turned to leave. What was the point in staying in the kitchen if Fitz was going to ignore her? But as she hit the entrance of the door, Fitz's voice filled the room.

"By the way, Cyrus Beene is a pit-bull. He's going to watch our every move so these little trysts will have to come to an end." Mellie could hear him practically sneering as he said this. But she did not give him the satisfaction of turning around to argue with him.

"How do you know I won't want to fuck him?" Mellie asked coldly. The blood was draining from her head rapidly. She had no patience of Fitz's games tonight.

But he chuckled, making her so angry, that she abandoned her valiant effort to keep her back to him. She whipped around to see him smirking smugly with his arms folded.

"Because he is as gay as the day is long." He said cheerily. Mellie rolled her eyes and made for the exit. But as she turned to walk way, Fitz said sarcastically.

"Oh, and by the way, Mel, checkmate. Have a nice night."

_What an asshole! _She thought as she made her way to her room.


	10. Families say the Darnest Things

London, 2000….

Mellie hated England so much, it hurt. It had ripped her apart from her home, her life and everything she valued in the world. The only positive thing that had come from Fitz's Ambassadorship to England had been her bonding with her children. Being stuck in smoggy London for two years with no friends, family or social life outside of her husband's political and work circle had made her a better mother. She bonded with them, more attentive to their needs and relying on nannies less.

Jerry was reserved, quiet and had that Valmont sense of propriety even at his age, and often sought his mother in times of crisis, but he could be rather mischievous. But Karen, on the other hand was her father through and through. Sure she looked like Mellie in miniature, but the spunky little girl was brash, loud and was precocious to the point of embarrassing. There had been an incident where she had told the British Foreign Minister at a dinner that he should "get a better toupee."

"Karen, dear, I'm not going to ask you again, change out of those shorts or else! Your grandmother is arriving soon!" Mellie said frustrated, waving a Ralph Lauren sun dress in the air for the millionth time. She shuddered to think what her mother would say if she saw her granddaughter running around Winfield House in a pair of jean shorts.

But the ten year old rolled her grey eyes, folding her arms in protest. "Mom, come on it's like a million degrees outside, what does grandmamma care if I where shorts?" Mellie sighed deeply and sat down on her daughter's bed gently.

"Sweetie, you know I do not care, but your grandmother will. Now be a good ducky and change. Please." Mellie tried her best to put on her most understanding voice. Patience with Karen was very necessary.

Karen unfolded her arms and bit her lip. It was the same contemplative look that Fitz took on when he was negotiating in meetings. _I swear she is his mini clone…._Mellie thought wearily.

"Fine, but this means daddy gets me my Backstreet Boys CD when it comes out right?" Karen said in a voice so serious, Mellie could not help but smile. The fact that she was actually negotiating the terms in which she would change, was hilarious. She was definitely her father's daughter.

"You know it. Now change!" Mellie said, as she got up, walked around the bed and placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

But as Mellie moved to walk out the room, Jerry popped into the entrance of the door, his normally flushed cheeks looking even more flushed. His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and sticking to his forehead.

"Hey, what's…the…party…." He said heaving._ Great, just what I need, the kids running amuck. _

Mellie folded her arms and pursed her lips. From the look on her sons face, Jerry had a pretty good idea that she was not pleased with his appearance.

"Jerry, you're grandmamma is to arrive here very soon. She's flown all this way to see you. Do you mind explaining to me why you are sweating and panting like a dog?" She asked coldly.

"Sorry…mom…playing-"

"I don't want to hear it! That's enough-"

"Hey! How come I get yelled at, Karen's not ready!" Jerry pouted. But before she could say another word, Fitz popped into the room. He was home earlier than usual.

"What's the party?" He said lightheartedly as he playfully tussled Jerry's wet hair. Mellie shook her head and rolled her eyes. She took in his appearance. His hair was a little messy and he had a purple bruise like mark on his neck. _Hickies? What are we in high school?_

"Mom wants me to wear a dress and Jerry is sweaty so the world is coming to an end." Karen said sardonically from her bed with a smirk. Fitz laughed. As if things were not annoying enough. Mellie shot him an angry look, causing the smile on Fitz's face to vanish.

"Hey, squirt, go take a bath, your sweating balls-"

"Fitz! What have I told you about using those kinds of words?" She hissed, but Fitz smiled. He bent down at eye level to a laughing Jerry.

"Your mom is five seconds from exploding. This is understandable seeing that your grandma is coming, do you really want to see her explode all over the place with guts and slime-"

"Ew…that's gross dad." Jerry said laughing. Mellie rolled her eyes. Typical, she disciplined the kids while he played the "cool dad." She hated when he did that.

"…exactly, so get out of here. Now." Fitz said jovially, blowing raspberry into Jerry's check, causing Jerry to laugh hysterically and run out of the room.

Mellie shook her head, while rolling her eyes. This was getting really annoying. Fitz stood up and walked past her toward Karen who was grinning widely.

"What, no freaking lecture for me?" Karen said smiling. Her father laughed and shook his head.

"Language!" Mellie said, folding her arms and joining Fitz who was standing by Karen's bed.

"Look, I know it's hot, but just wear the dress. Or I have to hear about this from not only your mom, but her mom. Come on, I'll get you that Flackstreet guys album, I swear." Fitz said folding his arms.

Karen laughed as she hopped off the bed, her long auburn curls swinging behind her as she did.

"First things first, its Backstreet boys, Dad, and secondly, Mom already agreed that you were getting it." Karen said mimicking her father's folded arm stance.

"Yes, but does this plan include changing into this pretty dress?" Fitz had a playful glint in his eye that told Mellie he was being very sarcastic about the dress being "pretty".

Mellie strolled over and grabbed the dress from off the bed. "I'll have you know this is a beautiful dress. Karen, go change. Fitz, come with me we need to talk." She said sternly as she grabbed her husband's arm and dragged him from the room. As they were leaving, Karen yelled "Uh-oh, someone's in trouble."

* * *

"Jeez, Mellie, give it a rest. You need to have fun with the kids. You don't want them in therapy in a few years." Fitz said frustrated. They had been arguing for over an hour. But this was typical.

"This…is..not…about…fun!" Mellie yelled, slamming her fist down on the vanity, her cosmetics flying onto the plush carpet. She had enough of Fitz's Laissez-faire parenting. She was tired of spending endless hours doing the hard work while Fitz coddled them. Granted he was a great father, but he was too much of a softy. Karen was getting too mouthy and Jerry was too disrespectful.

"Then what is it about!" Fitz yelled back as he loosened his tie, throwing it on their bed. It was times like this when she missed having her own room. But with two growing kids and a full staff who were not as loyal as their staff in California, it was hard to have that kind of arrangement and rationalize it. She hated this. Having to constantly keep the order. She got up, whipped around and threw her lipstick at him. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Apparently he was used to Mellie throwing things at him when he was upset.

"Fuck this! I'm so sick of this shit! I'm sick of running this goddamn dungeon by myself, I'm sick of being the bitch to the kids, while you gallivant around playing ambassador. And don't even get me started on that fucking bitch you are screwing around with!" She said, her face turning beet red. His mouth falls open in shock as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Oh! So we've reached a verdict. This is not about the kids as normal, this is about your insecurities." He said smugly. Mellie seethed. She felt like smacking him, his dumb stupid smirk. That was beside the point. It was not fair that he got to screw around. But of course, being in a new country, he had the freedom to do much more. The press in England, while harsh, did not exactly follow ambassadors extensively unless it pertained to policy.

The late night phone calls, the smears of lipstick on his clothes had been enough. One of the two mistresses he had kept since they had been in England. First, there was Helga, a Russian diplomat's ex-wife, now was Farah Nikahd worked in the Liaison Office to European Bank for Reconstruction & Development office at the Embassy. She was smart, petite and exotic, with sultry eyes and an accent. Fitz's type and very obvious. It grated her nerves, the double standard.

"Fuck…you." She said through gritted teeth. She could feel pools of sweat gathering around her neck. The stupid house did not have air-conditioning.

Fitz rolled his eyes and sat on the bed, untying his dress shoes.

"You wish!" he said laughing to himself. That was it.

"Oh! Please, I don't know what kind of disgusting cesspool you've had your dick in." She shot back, sitting back down at the vanity and attempting to finish her make-up. But her face was sweating, her mascara was smeared and running down her face.

"Well, it's a lot better than yours that is for sure. I'd rather cesspool than screwing a dead fish." She turned around again, much to her dismay. She needed to ignore him. Her mother would be here any minute and she did not need any more of the aggravation. This is what he did best. But she could not help herself. Fitz needed to be put in his place.

"Yeah?" she challenged, getting up from her seat and walked over to him. He was still smirking as he took his socks off. He looked her dead in the eye, mocking her. The glint in his sparkling eyes was unmistakable. He wanted to pick a fight with her.

"Fuck yeah." He shot back. "Doesn't feel so good does it? Being screwed around on."

"That's not the point!"

"Yes it is." He said standing up. "Have you forgotten? The preppy, no dick wannabees you were fucking around on me with! When you had toddlers at home? At least I never screwed my girls in our bed, in houses that we_ lived_ in with our children. But all of a sudden, you want Tracy and Hepburn." He said coldly. His voice was so quiet there was a hiss, it was almost snake like.

Mellie shoved him slightly and walked away.

"Oh, nice, run away. You never like hearing-"

"Oh! Please, what a joke! All of a sudden we get here, and you've grown balls!" Mellie shot back as she turned around. She grabbed the nearest thing and threw it at him but he ducked. It was an ash tray and it shattered upon impact. He stared at her in amazement, his chest heaving.

"You fucking little hypocrite. You want to talk about me screwing around, let's talk about you. For once! Let's talk about the kids being a few feet away and you are throwing things at me?"

But before Mellie could say anything else, the bedroom door opened to reveal, Katherine Valmont, dressed in her summer whites. Mellie looked felt horrified. Great, now her mother was here.

"And to think, I thought the children had a hard time resolving issues. I've been waiting for at least 20 minutes downstairs with the children, so you can imagine my surprise to find out my daughter and my son in law violently screaming like barbaric animals." She said coldly, her thin lips pursed. Her blue eyes were icily staring at Mellie.

Mellie felt small and embarrassed. Had the whole staff heard them as well.

"Mother, could you PLEASE give us some privacy." Mellie said viciously. But Fitz intervened.

"Nonsense, Mrs. Valmont, you're more than welcomed. We are used to having a lot of people in and out of our bedroom." He said with a grimace. Mellie could strangle him.

"It's Katherine sweetie, and nice to see you too, but if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with my daughter." The older woman said sweetly. But Mellie knew her mother. She had the personality of poisoned honey. Sweet initially, but deadly eventually.

"Sure." Fitz said, and smiling, and with that, he walked out of the room into the adjacent sitting room.

"So, Melody, your still driving your husband crazy." The older woman said, while taking a seat on the bed. She picked up Fitz's tie and held it up. "Red lipstick, wow, this one is a keeper."

Mellie breathed in trying to calm herself. "Hello to you to mother." _As if this day could not get worse. _"You look nice." She said unsteadily observing her petite mother. The white slacks were pretty. Valentino maybe.

"Thanks darling, you look terrible. But I guess that explains the red lipstick on the tie. These young girls these days, they know how to keep a man interested." She said crossing her legs and smiling.

_Fuck this little bitch!_

"Mother, I really would appreciate it if you would not undermine me in front of my husband. It's unseemly." Mellie walked over to her vanity and once again attempted to finish her make-up as her mother pressed on.

"You are doing a great job of that on your own. But I guess you've learned nothing from me all these years."

"Which is what? Being a doormat to your husband, tell me mother, when dad ran our family fortune in the ground, did you _take_ it lying down?" Mellie said in a faux sweet voice as she wiped the dripping sweat of her face. She turned her head slightly to watch her mother in the reflection of the mirror. There was a slight uncomfortable shift in her demeanor. _Good, that's what you get. _

"Yes, I did. Like a good woman does. Speaking of which, this Farah, You tell me she's quite the beauty. Indian is she?" Katherine really knew how to stick to her. She was the best at this. Mellie was no comparison.

Mellie swallowed hard as she reapplied her foundation. "Iranian. And she's a bit short. Pretty, but short." Her mother laughed. She did not need this, her being so cavalier about it. However, when the subject of Fitz's infidelity came up, she would always joke about it.

"Your father liked them short." She said coolly, as she got off the bed and walked toward the door. Mellie felt a lump forming in her throat. Why did her mother always do this to her? She probably should not have told her mother about any of this. It's not like she would take her side. Her mother had her own fair share of problems. For years, her parents had pretended to be perfect. Yes, they loved each other. But her father was a man of a different time. He had his fair share of fun, although he had been careful. It hurt. She did not need to be reminded every time that history was repeating itself.

"Can't you be like normally mothers?" Mellie said quietly, her eyes burning with oncoming tears. But as Katherine reached for the doorknob, her hand stopped midway. For the briefest seconds, she thought her mother would show some compassion. But instead, she straightened out her back and went about leaving.

"Fitz! You can come back in the room!" she yelled. But before she completely left, she stared down coldly at her daughter. "Make sure to wear something nice for dinner, and by the way, Karen's dress looks absolutely hideous. You probably should look into something that does not make her look like a baby prostitute. The girl is growing taller every day."

And with that, she left, slamming the door behind her, and leaving Mellie in tears and with an aching heart.


	11. The Slippery Slope Kicks Off

_Iowa, 2003._

"No, for the last time Cyrus, look at the poll numbers with women, okay we are down, which in effect cuts my lead down to me trailing behind Langston. If we cannot win the swath of down state Iowa, I will lose the entire Midwest and just win the coastal areas." Fitz said wearily. It was a late bitter cold night in Des Moines, Iowa. Mellie and Fitz were sitting in a large presidential hotel suite with Cyrus Beene, the campaign manager and trusted advisor for the couple.

Cyrus shook his head, skeptically. "No, no…I think you can make up for the loss of women's votes with maybe a speech on family values, but you need to worry about New Hampshire, not Iowa, after all this is Langston country."

It was almost midnight and Mellie was exhausted from a long day of campaigning around the state. However, strategy was in desperate need for discussion. The Grant campaign for the most part, was not a bad one. But it was one that was not particularly generating kind of excitement from the base of the Republican Party and was lagging in every poll behind popular longtime conservative hero, Senator Sally Langston.

On paper, Mellie's husband had it all. Smart, ambitious and even she could not argue, incredibly handsome and charismatic. Not to mention young, and as far as his resume was concerned, polling really suggested that voters, a good majority of them thought him to be incredibly qualified for the job. And were even more impressed at what he had accomplished at this age. Naval Aviator, Attorney General, Governor of California, and an Ambassadorship to England were all the good seal of approval they needed.

His performances on the campaign trail however left something to be desired. This was strange, given that Fitz was typically the most charismatic person in a room. But this had all changed. He had become wonky, distant and boring, relying on policy heavy speeches and steering clear of the red meat issues like social issues…or family values.

_Well, that tends to happen when you're not getting any ass. _Mellie thought darkly as she watched with folded arms Fitz and Cyrus debate each other on the merits of campaigning in smaller venues versus bigger venues.

"…maybe you should do a town hall, so people can see you in your element-"

"No, Cy, for the last time, this election is about real issues. We have two wars going on, economists are talking about a potential recession and we are facing the risk of terrorist attacks every day. I need to communicate real solutions and that is what I'm doing." Fitz said adamantly, his eyes steely with slight annoyance. Despite his respect for Cyrus, he seldom seemed to listen to his advice.

"Fitz, Cyrus has a point." Mellie said intervening, placing a hand on his arm as she spoke. She had become very conscious since he announced his run to be more "wife-like" when people were in their mist.

Fitz and Cyrus both stared at Mellie. They looked surprised (and somewhat relieved on Cyrus's part) that she had finally decided to join the conversation. Her advice normally was needed; however, knowing Fitz, he would find some way to argue against listening to her.

"Why?" Fitz asked with somewhat of an edge in his voice while his brow furrowed. His eyes were alternating at a rapid pace between the hand on his bicep and her face. His face said it all. _Not helping._

Mellie sighed. She could not believe him. Here he was, blessed with this great opportunity for them, and he was going to throw it all away because he wanted to be the modern day Adali Stevenson II.

"Look, it would not hurt if you could just lighten up a bit. I mean, in interviews your great but on the stump, too much fact and policy. And the crowds are way too big. That stuff works better in a smaller environment with voters who want kitchen table issues. Not a bunch of rah-rah activists who want you to throw them applause lines. But you still need to turn on the sparkle." Mellie analyzed carefully. She took satisfaction in Cyrus's smile and head nodding. However, Fitz rolled his eyes. He shrugged her hand off and leaned back in his chair.

"I understand you guys want me to ham it up a bit, and I will, maybe I will even met with Dan tomorrow after the prayer luncheon to make the speech a little less wonky but I will not do that at the expense of campaigning on the real issues." Fitz said running both hands through his dark curls. He was growing a five o'clock shadow and his lids were heavily drooping.

Mellie knew he was tired, cranky and annoyed. He often got like that after a long day. Unfortunately, if he stayed up any longer, he would not fall asleep. It was times like this she missed England. _At least he'd be fucking to take the edge off. _She observed. But there was too much at risk now…

"Umm…why don't we wrap this up Cy, Fitz looks like he's about ready to fall over." Mellie said sweetly. Cyrus nodded, as his own electric blue eyes were red with tiredness.

"Could not agree more. You know sometimes Mellie, I wonder if maybe you and Fitz should switch places, that would make my life easier." He joked kindly as he gathered his belongings from the table.

Mellie laughed. She wondered the same thing herself. After all, campaigning was one of the few things she actually liked these days. She was equally as well versed on the issues as her husband and crowds tended to respond well to her. While she was no rock star like Langston, she had a following.

But Mellie could see the muscle bone in Fitz's face twitching slightly from the corner of her eye. _Looks like Cyrus touched a nerve._

"Goodnight Cyrus." Fitz said softly, with a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes and voice. But Mellie could hear just a touch of ice in his tone as Cyrus walked toward the door.

_Someone's mad. _

But before Mellie could get up from the table toward the bed, Cyrus spoke once more.

"By the way, Governor, Operation Vatican is a go." Cyrus said smiling. Mellie stopped halfway and suddenly was intrigued. What the hell was operation Vatican? It surely had nothing to do with religion? Fitz and she were Episcopalians. Was this an attempt to appeal to Catholic voters?

"What are you talking about?" Mellie asked curiously. She looked over at Fitz to see him rolling his eyes.

"Cyrus says he has this former student of his-"

But Cyrus interrupted Fitz with a glimmer of happiness in his eye. "She's more than a _former_ student. She's a genius. Top of her law school class, VP of a consulting firm in New York now. She's going to give this campaign the shock it needs." He finished. Mellie studied Cyrus. His chest was puffed out and he was practically aglow with pride. This woman sounded impressive…

"Ha!" Fitz laughed obnoxiously. "Sounds like another high paid hack to me. Let's at least wait until she starts working for us." It was a _she_? Fitz had finally been on the straight and narrow lately thanks to the campaign. She did not need anything distracting him now; sure, he needed the sex but come on. They could not afford any bimbo eruptions, well maybe if they kept their mouths shut. But luckily he sounded skeptical. As Cyrus moved toward the door, shaking his head amused, he said something that shook Mellie.

"I did not nickname her Vatican for nothing, the girl works miracles." And with that, he left.

* * *

Mellie had been up for hours. She had called a few people to get the name of the new press secretary. Olivia Pope. She had heard the name before. Pope…Pope….

But when she finally waited for Fitz to fall asleep, she jumped to her laptop and scurried into the adjacent sitting room. Pope suddenly became familiar.

She was the daughter of the famed neurosurgeon, Dr. Harvey Pope. He had operated on a family friend of the Valmonts. He was one of the preeminent doctors in the neurological field not only in the country, but in the world. But what got her stunned her more so than anything was the woman's looks. She was striking. Long, dark cascading waves, big brown Bette Davis eyes and smooth cocoa brown skin. She had full lips and long eyelashes from the up close beauty shot had of her. Exotic…

_She's so Fitz's type. _Mellie thought annoyed as she skimmed through the gushing profile. She had a nice background, loved horseback riding as a girl, and had just broken up with Jamie Anderson, a reporter from the Wall Street Journal. She searched for anything she could find, from her days as the editor for the Yale Law Review to her being the spokesperson for Tom Lorry, the ultra-conservative Speaker of the House who had managed to hold on to his job despite a sexual harassment suit from a pharmaceutical lobbyist.

This Olivia Pope was good…beautiful, smart and from the looks of the photos of her about town in New York, very stylish. Mellie went so far as to watch a YouTube interview of her on CNBC. She was poised, well-spoken and had an infectious laugh. And seemed to be something a flirt….

_Maybe this isn't a good idea. _Mellie's rational brain thought. But the other half of her brain knew that she would be the shock to not only the campaign's system, but to Fitz's.

_Maybe she can work miracles after all…._ This woman had a reputation to uphold. Hopefully would be discrete.


	12. The Most Hurtful Game

_The Cape Cod, that summer._

_Offense is the best defense. _Olivia Pope loved to say about campaign strategy. So why not take the advice from a rival? Mellie thought. It was a blistering hot summer day in the Cape. It was beautiful yet humid enough where the air was sapping everyone of energy. Hence the gathering of staffers at their home at the Fitzgerald, a beautiful 20th century which home overlooked the Georgian Bay.

After the long and grueling campaign between the Grant camp and the Langston camp, they had joined together in unity, with Sally on the bottom of the ticket. The fact that Fitzgerald was on the top of the ticket at all, and ten points ahead in Gallup's recent polls had everything to do with the dynamic duo.

Olivia and Cyrus were two of a kind, wielding their way through media bias, Democratic talking points and selling Fitzgerald Grant to the country as the Republican equivalent of John. F Kennedy. So what other way for the Grants to show their gratitude but to invite their most trusted staffers to spend a glorious weekend relaxing, while putting the hustle and bustle of the campaign on hold. But Mellie had other reasons why she had thought up the weekend at their summer home.

For the past few months, she had the nagging feeling that Fitz and Olivia were having an affair. After all these years, one would assume she would know but this time, it was different. She had been to dinner parties, state functions and the like with Fitz's mistresses of the past.

And while those women were often the ones trying to embarrass her with over flirtation and snide comments, Olivia was very different. She was always professional, polite and well-prepared. She got along with the children and meshed well with the staff. And most importantly, she seemed to genuinely like Mellie. She needed to know how this woman operated outside of the confides of a campaign. She needed to pick up on her weaknesses, see what made her tick.

_She always had a poker face on. _Mellie thought as she watched Fitz and Billy Chambers play a game of one on one tennis. But Fitz on the other hand, who normally did everything in his power to rub his affairs in her face, while simultaneously, acting distant towards his mistresses in public was different this time.

He was very discreet, sneaking out of their hotel rooms at night, making phone calls in the bathroom and was incredibly over protective of Olivia, in a way she had never seen him before. Most importantly, he was always in a good mood when she was around….Never had he held the other woman so far away from her. And she needed to be close to them together outside of campaign meetings and lunches to know why.

_Maybe he's in-_

_No, that's impossible. _Mellie's rational mind thought. She felt an unease in her stomach at the thought. Fitz could not have those kind of feelings for anyone. He was too self-involved.

"Ha!" Fitz exclaimed as he scored a match point, leading to the spectators to applaud. He was very competitive when it came to sports. So much so that his white polo was drenched with sweat, revealing a very fit upper body.

Billy Chambers, the rosy cheeked deputy campaign manager shook his fist in mock indignation as they walked off the court and towards the crowd.

"That's what you get for thinking you can beat me." Fitz panted loudly as he walked over and took a seat toward Mellie. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Billy laughed, as he leaned against the chair Cyrus was sitting on.

"And this is why I don't play sports." Cyrus said shaking his head laughing. "Way too competitive."

"Yeah, right." Karen chimed in from the other side of the table. "Uncle Cyrus you are the most competitive person I know." The teenage girl said with a smile, running a hand through her glossy locks. The table laughed with good cheer. But Fitz looked around, his wet curls, sticking to his forehead.

"Hey, has anyone seen Olivia?" he asked, looking perplexed. Mellie turned to look him in the eye, catching his gaze. She had gone inside to take a nap when everyone insisted on playing tennis. But then again, if she had spent a long night with Fitz, it was understandable. Seeing that Fitz himself had snuck back into the master bedroom at dawn this morning.

_He must think I'm stupid. _Mellie thought humored.

Mellie smirked and looked him in the eye as if to say, _your girlfriend is safe, don't worry._ Unlike his other affairs, they had never verbally addressed Olivia. But Mellie was pretty sure Fitz had an inkling she knew about his relationship with Olivia.

Jerry shrugged his shoulders. "Last time I saw her, she was heading upstairs to sleep. But I-"

But before Jerry could finish his sentence, a tiny figure was approaching the tennis court from the main house. Mellie squinted her eyes to get a better look. _Right on time._

She was dressed in a white very form fitting tank bra that left nothing to the imagination and a pair of matching white athletic tennis shorts, which were short enough to be sexy yet long enough to be appropriate. Her dark waves were in a high glossy bun and she was cheerfully carrying a tennis racket in her hands.

Mellie could feel the energy immediately change. Billy was looking at Olivia like he had been a starving man looking at a burger, and Fitz was licking his lips. How very typical. This drooling over Olivia made Mellie feel dorky in her tennis skirt, polo shirt and visor.

"Hey guys! How about a game, fellas?" she asked brightly as she walked over across the court and to the table. Jerry nudged his older sister and whispered. "Dude, she looks hot." Karen laughed, much to Mellie's annoyance. Great even her son…

"Well, they would, but they just finished their Agassi, Sampras impersonation." Cyrus said laughing.

"Well, that's okay, because I could always play you or Mellie." Olivia said sweetly as she arrived. Mellie smiled and looked closely at the younger woman. Did she really think she could take her?

"Well, Olivia, that's awfully brave of you, but I'll have you know I'm quite good." Mellie said coolly before Cyrus could respond. Who did she think she was? Arriving to the court late and challenging her. The whole table "Oohed" amused. But there was no sign of joking on Olivia's face. Her brown eyes, squinting from the sun were focused with determination.

"Liv, is that really a good idea?" Fitz asked smiling wide. His eyes were practically glued to Olivia's perky breasts, much to Mellie's chagrin. Mellie smiled. At least he knew best not to challenge her to a game. She would kick ass…

But Olivia was persistent. "You know I like a good challenge." She said jokingly, her voice dripping with smugness. This for, some reason, triggered a competitive edge in Mellie that she had not felt in years. Everyone who knew her knew she was an excellent tennis player. For anyone challenge her was not going to be ignored. "So what's it going to be, Mel? Because I know Cyrus, and he doesn't seem to enthused about tennis."

"Fine Olivia, if that's the way you want it." Mellie said, in a sweet voice. She stood up, grabbed one of the discarded tennis rackets and made her way onto the court. The small group had begun cheering and jeering as Olivia made her way to the other side of the court. But before Mellie could pick up a tennis ball, Olivia was already in perfect form, getting ready to serve.

"Looks like this is going to be good!" Fitz yelled jokingly. Mellie shot him a look. _She was going to kick the little girl's ass._

* * *

And with one serve, the game began. It was competitive, athletic and consisted of a lot of grunts, volleying and points. Mellie had lost track of time, but all she knew was she was losing. And badly. Olivia was springy, with a killer backhand and an amazing ability to hit difficult shots. Watching her youthful legs flex as she ran across the court was a painful reminder that she was competing with a woman who was not going to give up.

The crowd would cheer loudly, every time Olivia would score a point.

"Urgh!" Mellie grunted as she hit overhead a difficult shot, but like a pro, Olivia ran to the other side of the court and backhanded it so fast, Mellie could barely register she had made the shot.

Mellie was sweaty, panting and out of breath, but she would not give up. Not like this.

"Mom, why don't you call it a day? Livy's clearly won this one." Jerry called out as Mellie jogged tiredly to retrieve the ball.

"Yeah…" She heard Olivia's out of breath voice call. "I think I've had enough." She turned around to see Olivia walking off the court and high fiving Cyrus, Fitz, the kids and Billy. She felt embarrassed, watching the scene unfold. She abandoned her mission and mournfully walked across the court to see Olivia sitting on the arm of Fitz's chair (which was odd, considering that Mellie's old chair was vacant), her pretty face shinning with sweat and triumph.

"Wow." Fitz said as a boyish grin on his face emerged as he looked up at Olivia with complete admiration. It made Mellie sick to watch this. Particularly due to the proximity of Olivia's toned thigh to Fitz's hand.

For the first time, she was really beginning to gage just how enthralled Fitz was with this woman. Now it was confirmed, however this was more than sex. The interaction between them, while seemingly invisible to the kids, Billy and Cyrus was so palpable, if Mellie did not know these individuals, she would think they had been married for years. The electricity between them was insane…threatening even. For the oddest reason, it made her skin crawl.

"I told you I liked a challenge." She said playfully, her full lips spreading into a grin. Mellie noticed Fitz shifted slightly in his seat. A sweaty Olivia sitting next to him was hardly a good idea. The darkening of his sparkling grey eyes said it all. _He was turned on. _

"I'll say, you totally destroyed Mom!" Jerry said gleefully. "Thank god, because she's been kicking our butts since forever."

At this everyone laughed, leaving Mellie to feel the bile of anger boil in her stomach. But she maintained her composure, forcing a smile.

"It was bound to happen sometime." She said sweetly, staring at Fitz who was blatantly staring at Olivia.

"Yup. By the way, Olivia the outfit didn't hurt the view." Billy said flirtatiously, breaking Fitz's gaze. His head snapped around so fast, it looked as though his head would spin. His eyes shimmered for the briefest seconds with something Mellie could only describe as jealousy. _How dare he? _

But Olivia laughed, taking the attention away from Fitz's behavior. She blushed deeply and rolled her eyes. "Thanks Billy, but I'm still not going out with you." she answered wittily. Billy pretended to look disappointed, causing more laughter from the group. But Fitz remained stoic.

"I'm going to go get a drink of water." Fitz said suddenly, getting up and walking around the table. Mellie could sense the awkwardness emerging between Fitz and Olivia….there was that protective streak again.

"Maybe I should come with you?" Olivia stood up volunteering brightly. "I could bring everyone else some?" But Fitz shook his head.

"No, that's fine, umm…just stay here." He said, his voice sounding oddly uneven.

"Oh." She answered back politely. But her face was somewhat crestfallen. Mellie smiled inwardly.

"You know, I think I'm going to go inside too, I need a shower." Mellie said brightly. The group nodded but as Mellie turned around to leave, she caught a glimpse of Olivia's downtrodden face.

She jogged a little bit to keep up with Fitz who was walking briskly toward the exit and off the court.

"Hey!" she yelled, causing Fitz to whip around and stare at her, with one eyebrow cocked. He was clearly annoyed still by Billy's complement. _Wow, this girl has really done a number on him._

"Try so hard not to be jealous." Mellie said matter of factly which caused the color to drain from Fitz's face.

"What are you talking about?" he spat accusatorily, his eyes searching her face for clues, but Mellie fought hard to keep it still and expressionless.

"You know what I mean. Isn't that what the attitude is about? Olivia?"

Fitz's eyes flashed for a second, but he smirked. "So you aren't as dumb as you look." He hissed quietly, turning away to walk again, but Mellie caught up with him. What did he mean by that?

"Huh?" She asked playing dumb. "Who says I am stupid?" At this question, he stopped and looked at her.

"There are a lot of things you are good at, competing with Olivia is not one of them. So how about you lose the jealousy routine because that little tennis ego trip thing today, was low, even for you. You just had to take the bait." His face spread into a grin.

Mellie was confused. What bait?

"Wipe the stupid off your face Mel, she's not dumb. You invite her to our home, trying to check for weaknesses only to have her beat you on your own turf? That's embarrassing."

Mellie felt her body numb. Did she know that she had suspicions?

"Does she-"

"She doesn't have to, at least I don't think she knows. But if you keep doing things like this, pretty soon she will pick up that you know. And frankly, I like the fact that she doesn't. It keeps things from getting…messy." He finished looking rather pleased with himself.

So Fitz was aware Mellie knew. "So how's-" Mellie started but she could not finish. The look of false curiosity on her husband's face said it all.

"How's what?" he asked knowingly. He was mocking her. Big time….

"Look, I just need to know-" She started again but this time he shook his head, smiling widely.

"Wow" he said hushed. "You really are threatened by her aren't you?"

At this question, Mellie was truly floored. She had no response, other than for her mouth to gape open and close repeatedly. The palpable satisfaction was too much from Fitz. He was clearly enjoying this.

"Well, this has been fun. Guess she's the one." He finished contently, knocking the wind out of Mellie. She could not believe what she was hearing.

"How…how do you know that?" she asked, as a lump formed in her throat. She was struggling to maintain her composure.

His face became serious and he stared at her for a few moments.

"I knew from the minute I saw her, I loved her. But the only way I truly knew would know I was in love with her would be your reaction, Mel. So thanks for the ringing endorsement. You always made a scene about the others…but for the first time today, I saw you truly scared. You weren't fighting to win a game. You were fighting to win me. To secure your place in my life. And to make sure she wasn't taking what you never had. And what you are just realizing you could have had if you _tried _years ago."

Mellie let silence enclose on them. His words were prickling at her like sharp knives. "And what does she have that I never had?" she asked, choked up.

Fitz's eyes became soft, wistful and he quietly said. "She has my heart. Why? I don't know, probably because she earned it, she let me in. She's passionate, actually gave it a chance, despite all odds. Despite us, the campaign, she gave it a shot. It just is. You, on the other hand, never gave it a chance. You wrote us off, and started this slippery slope. Its' too late to fight a game you should have been fighting years ago Mel. So yeah, you lost a lot more than a tennis game today." His voice was no longer condensing, or mocking, but caring. Like a doctor telling a family member a patient had died.

The tears began to flow, slowly trickling down Mellie's face. She did not know how to stop them. Maybe she did not need to. Her hurt was broken at his words. The realization at sunk in.

_He was right. It wasn't enough. And it would never be…._


	13. Score One for Mellie

2005, Washington D.C, The White House…

It was one of those late Washington nights. The cold nights that were hushed, void of the hustle and bustle, with nothing but snowfall and the violent whipping of wind as the background music. However, this was a different kind of night. A night that had been full of high drama and fighting between the President and the First Lady, they had yelled and screamed practically circling the wagons in the private Residence.

The topic in question was a touchy one and one they knew too well. However, they had immediately fallen silent when Cyrus Beene, the Chief of Staff had walked into the sitting room with the escort of Secret Service agent.

"Okay." He started wearily, as Hal left out the door as quickly as he came in. He was dressed casually, which was unusual in a black sweater vest and black slacks. He had folders tucked under his arms and his eyes were sharp with focus. He meant business, however his face still had that paternal warmth.

"Hi, Cyrus." Mellie said nervously, her voice a little hoarse from the yelling. She ran a hand through her auburn locks to keep from throwing something at Fitz.

A New York times reporter with a reputation of writing penetrating biographies about the younger years of presidential candidates was set to release a book on Fitz's younger years. The partying, college, his navy years had been the alcohol soaked womanizing epoch that strongly clashed with his family man persona of the present. Unfortunately, according to the manuscript, there had been interviews with friends, professors and women. And they were very detail orienteered.

"Hello Mellie, Mr. President." He said nodding, helping him to a seat in the crème sofa facing the beautiful views of the White House grounds.

"Hi, Cy, look, I'm sorry about this-"Fitz said wearily, running his hands through his hair. Mellie thought he looked like a teenager in his dark jeans and Harvard sweatshirt. A teenager that had been grounded. And rightly so.

But Cyrus smiled. "Mr. President, this is part of my job. And if this is your first major scandal of your administration, then you are the luckiest man in the world."

They both nodded. He had a point. Given some of the more salacious things about their past, this really was the least of their problems. But Fitz was shooting Mellie a look. It was as if he was saying "I told you so". But Mellie rolled her eyes. He had dragged her through hell to get this job. And with the high visibility of this job, one that provided, an actual office, schedules and goals, she was not going to give that up. To go back living as a lady who lunched all because of his inability years ago to behave himself.

"But we do have reason to worried, right; I mean do we really need this right now? When Fitz is trying to pass Medicare reform right out of the gate, after all, he needs-"

But Fitz cut Mellie off as he got up and began pacing.

"Jeez, Mel, relax on the politics of it. Right now we are trying to do damage control. So what do we do? I mean, I skimmed through it; there is not a lot in there that is false. So I might as well fess up." Fitz said matter of factly. Mellie looked at Cyrus, who looked as if he had swallowed a fly.

"What do you mean…so the threesome in the naval barracks with the Korean and Swedish-"

"Yes! Okay, look, I was young, I-"

"…was a man whore." Mellie finished his sentence sweetly. She was very careful about how she said this. To the untrained ear, it sounded like Mellie was just busting his chops. Cyrus laughed heartedly. But the narrowing of Fitz's eyes, which Cyrus did not catch for a brief moment told Mellie all she needed to know.

"Hey, watch it." Fitz said pointing to Mellie. She smirked. He had got him good.

"Okay, so let's get started. ABC is on deck, we do an interview with Diane Sawyer. You have to promote the reform bill so we negotiate to have that cleared. As far as the press conference goes-"

"….the press conference will be a speech and the President will not take any questions." Olivia Pope finished Cyrus sentence for them. She had walked into the room just in time. _Of course, the great savior._

Mellie thought as she observed Olivia. Unlike the rest of the room, dressed in their Friday night casuals, Olivia was dressed to the nines. She was wearing a form fitting short coat with what seemed like mink lined collar, body hugging leather pants, and sky high heels. When she sauntered over to sit by Cyrus, Mellie caught the familiar red soles of Christian Louboutins.

"Hi Livy." Fitz said, practically gulping out the words as he sat back down, his eyes bugging out of his head. Mellie rolled her eyes. But she had to admit, her appearance was rather different from the professional woman clad in white suits and carrying brief cases. Her hair was in a large halo of tight coils and the smoky eye makeup made her pretty eyes pop even more.

"Hello everyone. So, clearly we are talking strategy." She said brightly, taking her coat off.

"Wow, Livy are you going to Studio 54?" Cyrus asked amused as she revealed a provocative silk halter top. Olivia laughed and slapped his arm.

"Oh, please Cyrus, you are showing your age. Sorry guys, I was at Love. My best friend Abby just turned 33 so we were doing a little celebrating." When she said the word "celebrating" she did a little shimmy.

Mellie smiled tightly. She's so annoying. With her perfect little friends, and her perfect little slutty outfit. Great, just what she needed the little tramp to be cleaning up Fitz's other bimbo eruptions.

"Love, what is that like a-"But before Fitz could inquire more, Mellie interrupted.

"Can we please stick with the focus here?" Mellie said sharply. The room was immediately drained of its jovial mood. They all looked at her, with mingled expressions of shock and confusion.

"Sorry, I have just been on edge. So what were you going to say _Olivia_?" She said putting the emphasis on her name. Olivia nodded and immediately went into business mode.

"The story itself is not all that bad, frankly, it kind of makes Fitz look cool. Americans love this; however you have to appear presidential and competent despite it all. That's part of the reason they liked Clinton after the impeachment mess and love Kennedy years later. But those men had cheating scandals _while_ they were married. The book in question is talking about a young rich brat who didn't know any better. The caveat in this little fairy tale is he met the love of his life in Mellie, who redeemed him and showed him the error of his ways. We do the interview but the President makes it sound as trivial as possible. You acknowledge it by saying 'I liked women, lots of women, but I was young stupid, blah blah blah, and then you pivot to the reform bill."

She said this so fast that Mellie could not help but be impressed. These were the moments she hated this woman the most. Just when she wanted to dismiss her as nothing but a pretty face, she showed that political genius. Even in her ridiculous outfit she gave off the aura of authority and control.

"That makes sense, although, I think I'll leave the rich brat part out." Fitz said with a crooked smile. His eyes were doing that thing again, as he drank in Olivia. He knew what he was doing. Cyrus was frantically taking notes so he was taking the opportunity to check her out. Mellie could her heart thumping rapidly. Her barefoot was tapping frantically on the plush carpeting. _He could not stay focus for one minute. _

"Sure." Olivia said brightly, as she pulled out a Blackberry from her coat pocket and began typing away. Fitz cocked his head as if to try to get her attention, but she remained focus. Clearly, tonight would be business only.

"Good job, Liv, now, what do we do about some of the claims?" Cyrus asked matter of factly. But Olivia remained focused, still highly engrossed in her Blackberry.

"Gosh, there were so many I could barely keep track, but I think my favorite one was the Brazilian model, the weed and something about eating strawberries off of her stomach at Studio 54. But the Spanish banker on the boat was pretty funny." Olivia smirked. She looked up and stared at Fitz who was steadily turning red with every second.

He rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked even younger in that moment. Even Jerry did not behave like this when he was in trouble anymore.

"Look, I was young and stupid-"

"Keep saying that Fitz, you're going to need that for the interview. But I think my favorite one was him breaking into the prep school pool with the librar-"

"Enough! Guys, I'm already embarrassed as it is! So it's settled, interview, press conference, pivot." He said throwing his hands in the air as if he surrendered.

Mellie smiled. He needed to be embarrassed. Years and years of nonsense…

"Yes it is, I'm going to do a conference call in the morning and send out a few emails. Then we'll have a meeting with the rest of the communication team, Merv, my deputy and such to focus on a single message. The whole administration needs to be speaking with one voice. Maybe we even get Langston on board to release a statement." Olivia said.

But Cyrus shook his head. " Langston will be hard to bring into this, family values."

"Don't worry about her, I know how to work that out. Just have to get through to Billy, is all." Olivia said smiling. Her eyes were focused in on Fitz, who was clearly squirming in his seat. Mellie could feel the tension. As much as Olivia was playing power broker and joking about it. The sharpness of her eyes revealed a woman who was far from pleased with her lover's past life. One she had probably been naïve enough to think was chalked full of exaggerations. But then again what did she expect? Mellie thought as she leaned back into her chair to enjoy Olivia staring daggers into her husband.

"If you say so, but I trust you." Cyrus said as he gathered his things and made his way toward the door. "Well, it's late, I think I should be heading out." Olivia followed his lead, grabbing her jacket and following him.

"Wait, don't you want to hang around, have a little fun, this could be stressful next week?" Fitz offered friendly, but his eyes had a pleading look to them. He wanted Olivia to stay so he could apologize. She clearly did not believe the stories, until now. Mellie gaged as Olivia turned around to address him. Her body language was all business. But her eyes seemed full of disgust.

"Oh, I think you've had enough…_fun _for a lifetime." Olivia said coolly. Cyrus laughed as he made it out the door, but Olivia stared at Fitz a while longer, before heading out, leaving the couple swimming in a pregnant silence.

"Well, that was interesting!" Mellie said brightly. But Fitz was already heading toward the door.

"You know what, Mel, I'm not doing this with you anymore. I get it, stop rubbing it in."

"Why? Because your mistress is clearly upset with you too? I could tell. But I guess your perfect relationship is not that perfect is it? She didn't know about extracurri-"

"That's enough, Mel." He said turning around, his voice full of hurt. His eyes were shiny with sadness. Olivia's coldness had clearly hurt his feelings. _Good, it was about time._

Mellie shook her head, as she got up and walked toward the hallway. "You know, I may have gotten used to your ways, Fitz, but that doesn't mean she will. Olivia is cut from a different cloth. She's not going to take kindly to knowing she was one of many. And most importantly, sooner or later, she's going to get tired of being the mistress. So you better figure out a way to make things right, or before you know it, she won't be fixing your mess, she'll become one herself." Mellie walked out, leaving Fitz to stew in the mess that he made.


	14. If It Never Was, Does it Exist?

Two months later…

The Grant administration was on the kind of high only reserved for super bowl winning football teams. After weeks of cracking skulls, poll testing and selling the Medicare Reform Act to the public, it had passed with flying colors. 68 Senators saw to that, from both parties. The President was being hailed for being a tough reformer and it solidified his credentials as a deficit hawk. But despite the professional triumphs, personally, the President and the First Lady were hanging on by a thread. This was the reason why they were sitting across the White House Yellow Oval Room from Dr. Addison Bailey, the noted psychologist.

She was a pretty blonde in her mid-forties with a gentle disposition and a propensity for serving high profile clients discreetly. The thought of marriage counseling had seemed ridiculous and when Mellie had suggest the idea weeks ago, Fitz laughed in her face for a solid two minutes. But with the mounting stress of both their jobs, struggling to remain involve in Karen and Jerry's life, and the departure of Olivia from the White House, it seemed only right.

"So, first things first, marriage counseling is not necessarily bad." Addison waxed on in calm, soothing voice. Mellie thought she sounded like she was on Quaaludes. " People often associate marriage counseling with 'bad marriages' however, sometimes it is healthy, necessary even to try and build a stronger foundation of commitment, particularly with couples who have been married for a long time."

Mellie nodded, but the truth was she and Fitz did have a 'bad marriage'. Or something potentially worse. The silences were deafening, and the hatred they had for each other over the years no longer existed. It had morphed into a disquieting tolerance of the others presence. They were essentially roommates. But Dr. Bailey did not have to know that the first session.

"How long have you been married?" Fitz asked annoyed. Mellie looked at him. He looked quite debonair in his navy suit and blue tie today. See, she was trying already to make this work. But he was not exactly on the happy train. His eyes were glazed over and he looked about ready to roll them.

Dr. Bailey smiled politely and crossed her legs. "Mr. President I have been married for 15 years." Fitz nodded and leaned back into the couch.

"Are you happily married?" He asked aggressively. Mellie shot him a look of distaste. _What was his problem?_

"Yes, Mr. President, but this is not about me. This is about you. First off, I would like to ask the two of you to assess where you are in your marriage. On a graded scale, A+ being the best and F being the worst." She said, as she scribbled on her notepad with a sliver pen.

Fitz sighed deeply, rolling his eyes and Mellie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, pretending to smooth out her Forest Green Ralph Lauren sheath dress.

"I would give us a C." Mellie offered kindly. Everyone had their problems. They were not perfect, but there was no need to dwell. At least they were making a solid effort. However in seeking help.

Dr. Bailey nodded, a look of curiosity spread across her face. "Why a C?"

"Well, umm…we are not perfect but we have our moments. Right sweetie?" Mellie said kindly, placing a hand on Fitz's firm thigh. He seemed very deep in thought, staring intently at Dr. Bailey. _Great, now he has a crush on the fucking shrink!_

"Whatever we say in here, stays in here right?" Fitz shot at Dr. Bailey. Mellie was confused. What did that have to do with anything?

Dr. Bailey nodded. "Of course, I signed a confidentiality contract, thanks to your wife and part of my goal is to help famous people without exploiting them. So if you think I'm going to say anything to anyone, Mr. President, you do not know me very well." She had an expression on her face that seemed to indicate she knew what Fitz's line of questioning pertained to.

"In that case, disregard everything my wife just said." Fitz said sharply, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Mellie felt her mouth drop. He was not going to do what she thought he was going to do.

"Fitz, what are you-"She started to say, but Fitz removed her hand from his thigh and sighed deeply. He maintained his gaze forward and began unloading.

"Okay! Where do I began, yes, let's see…." He drew his shoulders back and leaned forward. "I am probably the most miserable man on the planet. If I were to rate my marriage, I would give it an incomplete, why? I don't know, maybe because I'm not in love with my wife, I'm pretty sure she never has been in love with me. Hell, I would go as far to say that we never had a marriage to begin with because marriage implies that at some point we gave a damn about loving one another." He said this all with a kind of detached iciness that chilled the room. All Mellie could do was stare at her feet horrified at her husband unloading their deepest secrets.

The room remained quiet for a while. With no noise except the scribbling of Dr. Bailey's pen on her notepad.

Mellie forced herself to look at the doctor. Her grey pantsuit, Calvin Klein was a bit dated, her roots were beginning to grow in and she had an ugly nose. Not to mention her glasses screamed "slutty librarian." It was all she could do to keep from think about what Fitz said.

"Mrs. Grant, how do you feel about what your husband has said?" Dr. Bailey asked kindly, adjusting her glasses. She studied the doctor's face, and it seemed as though she was genuinely concerned.

Mellie felt her skin getting hot with embarrassment. There was that all too familiar lump in her throat mingling with the salty taste of tears. Where was this all coming from?

"It…has…merit." Mellie said lamely, practically choking out the words. She looked at Fitz, who continued to stare straight at the therapist. His jaw was set and his grey eyes were a light with determination.

"And Mr. President, I wish you to expound on why you feel the way you do. What makes you think your wife does not love you?"

"Well, maybe because she told me so. Maybe because she refused to have sex with me on our honeymoon or the countless men she cheated on me with? I'm not innocent, I've had my affairs. But I needed-"He choked. Mellie looked at him, studying his face. He almost seemed to be at war with himself.

"…I needed som-something, anything to feel good about myself. I've spent, so many years, trying to find love and even though we got married in less than desirable circumstances, I love my children, I tried for years. But my best wasn't good enough." He said softly, his voice thick with emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to hold back tears.

"Mellie, share what your feelings are about all of this? Do you feel responsible for your husband's feelings, or do you feel as though he is wrong?" Mellie could feel the tears falling down her face. She blinked fast to prevent them, but they could not stop. This was useless. Why bother divulging her feelings. She was not even sure what they were?

"Mellie, it would be wise of you to share-"Dr. Bailey started off but Mellie interrupted her.

"I'm not responsible for this…any of this. We drifted apart, and we may have had children too soon but I will…not-"Mellie could not continue. She felt her body being overcome with emotion. She buried her face into her hands and allowed herself to cry. Deep sobs that allowed her to finally gain clarity. To feel her way around why she was so angry and exhausted from this marriage. After years of holding everything in…it all made sense.

"I married Fitz because I was pregnant." She said through the tears. "I was young, I needed…to be married and I did what I had to do to secure a life. My parents expected me to do so. I just thought he knew what the arrangement was."

She felt Fitz's gaze. It was hot and penetrating. She briefly took her hands away from her face and stared at him, filled with shame. He looked broken, hurt almost like a wounded animal. She had never revealed that much before.

"And Mr. President do you-"

"I cared about you Mel, at some point I think. I knew I was not in love but I thought, why not, it could happen." He looked confused, as though he could not control the flow of the words out of his mouth.

"I thought you were hurting. So maybe I could…fix you or we could fix each other. We are from the same worlds, same kinds of pressure. Maybe if two people broken from a lifetime of being told we weren't good enough we could relate. Maybe you would become my friend. My best friend and understand that pain. The pain of your father constantly pressuring you to be the best. But I guess I was wrong."

His words struck Mellie hard. She was on mental autopilot. There it was. The point of no return.

"It sounds like you two married for entirely different reasons, Fitz, you married for companionship and friendship and Mellie you married for societal security. Would you agree?" Dr. Bailey said quietly.

Mellie nodded as she wiped her face. It felt as though she was lighter.

"I guess we did." Fitz said quietly. "I never was going to marry for love. I've found it. I know it, but it's not something I found at the right time.

"I take it you're not talking about-"

"No. I've loved three women in my life, deeply and unconditionally. My daughter, my mother and Olivia…" he said gaining his composure and turning to face the doctor.

"Who is Olivia?" Dr. Bailey inquired. She looked as though she had stumbled upon the most shocking thing in the world. Her green eyes were wide with confusion and her eyebrows were furrowed.

"She's the love of my life. She's my air. My heart. And I can't have her. I'm the most powerful man in the world. I can nuke nations, command an army and control the very conditions of how 300 million people live and beyond these borders, but I cannot openly love the love of my life. I can't get a divorce. I cannot give her children. I can't…I can't even kiss her or talk about my love for her in public. And every day I go without her, becomes another day I cannot function properly. I cannot sleep, I'm in constant pain and it's hard for me to function outside of my work life. I keep going because of my children, this country and because she believes in me." Fitz said slowly and heartfelt. The impact of his words could not go unnoticed.

Mellie felt the oxygen leave her body. The world was getting smaller. The realization that she had no real significance in her husband's life was awe-inspiring. At least she used to have the comfort that Fitz was so much of a romantic that a part of him loved her. But he did not. And he never would. It was a knife to the heart.

"Mellie, how do you feel about all of this? Do you feel hurt by your husbands-"

"I needed him to love me."

"I'm sorry?" Dr. Bailey said confused but Mellie continued. "I don't know how. I've tried. But it hurts to. My parents, life disappointed me years ago. I needed him to teach me how. Show me how to be a woman who loves. But he never got around to it. Maybe, just maybe if he did, I would love him back. I'm not in love with him. I don't love him outside of him being the father of my children but I care about him. I just wish he still cared about me." Mellie said sadly.

It all made sense. Everything was clear.

"How do you feel about Olivia?"

Mellie smiled through her tears. "I despise her. She's warm, feisty and full of life. All the things I'm not. She triggers a fire in Fitz, in people that I never will. Even my own children-"

Mellie choked again. The memories of Karen and Jerry, bonding with her kids over the years. The way Karen looked up to her, asking for her advice on hair, make-up boys…the way Jerry worshiped her…

"Look, why don't we wrap it up?" Fitz said unevenly, staring at his hands. "I have work to get back to?" It hurt. Deeply, that they were so far gone. There was no redemption. There was no fixing. They would never love one another. And nothing was going to change that. After years of hating Fitz for all the wrong reasons, she finally realized the truth.

* * *

They would do a few more sessions, which proved to be cathartic, allowing Fitz to sleep a few more hours than he did but after the fifth one, the one where Mellie revealed her mother confessed to regretting she ever had a daughter and Fitz revealed he longed for his father's affection so much that he used to sleep with the revolver his father gave him, they had ceased to use Dr. Bailey's services.

Everything they needed to know was out, said and dissected. They would no longer try to work on their marriage. Because there was not one. Mellie became lost in her work as First Lady and charity work. Fitz did the same, scoring one legislative victory after the next over the months. From the way she knew it, Olivia and Fitz would meet three times a week at Blair House and spend quality time. They had finally made up.

It was fine. 3040 days….that was eight years. That's how many years he would probably serve the way things were going. After that, they would go their separate ways.

Little did Mellie know it was not that simple. A young Aide, a pregnancy scare and the near collapse of the Grant Administration was a storm brewing on the horizon.


	15. Stranger than Fiction

_Epilogue. _

_Ten years later…._

Graduations were a weird thing. Sitting on the green, watching her son. Her baby graduate Phi Beta Kappa with a Degree in History had made her nostalgic. It was funny how 30 years of one's life went by so fast. How you got married, had children, became First Lady, and how quickly all that came to an end. Because there had been countless nights of misery, crying just hoping to see a promise land, one that seemed out of reach. Hoping for the shackles of being Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III's wife would be broken. So to be sitting on a sunny day in Princeton, New Jersey watching her handsome son walk the stage made everything, the pain, the hurt feel worthwhile.

Fitz's presidency had ended on a high note. Jobs, low taxes a booming economy and a robust foreign policy record. The single highest approval ratings post World War II for any president outgoing. Sure, there had been the scandals. The Amanda Tanner story had broken, but once again, Olivia Pope came to the rescue. However, there had been periods when the lived on pins and needles, scared that Fitz's affair with Olivia would come to the light, but it never did.

Olivia and Fitz had their ups and downs, ending and starting, ending and starting. But six months after his presidency, Mellie finally cut the cord. She filed for divorce. The media had gone wild with speculation but a simple and heartfelt press release had settled the discourse. But she never revealed they had been together while Fitz and her were married.

She still cared, more than she liked to admit for Fitz's well-being and reputation. Not to mention she did not want to be one of those women. The ones who were complicit in their husband's deception and lies. She played her part and that was all she needed to do. The divorce had been clean, after all the children were grown so there was no custody battle. Fortunately for her, Fitz had been generous with the divorce settlement. So a nice six bedroom home in Palm Beach had been her first step.

But the rest, her law firm of Schmidt, Valmont & Peterson, was still going strong. Small, boutique and exclusive, it kept her busy and in the swing of things. Mostly intellectual property. However, despite her low profile, trying to rebuild her life, her self-esteem (she had a therapist now) and what it meant to know longer be First Lady Mellie Grant, and it meant quiet nights, reconnecting with old friends, spending time with her children and waking up every morning relieved.

Her ex on the other hand was doing much better. Her thrived in his role as the statesmen. The stalwart of the Republican Party, engaging in charity work, speeches and the typical ex-president things. But she could not lie, sitting next to him and observing him up close, he looked good.

He was relaxed in his blue button down and navy suit with gold buttons. His face, which for years was the definition of focus and determination, was just bright with happiness. It might have had a lot to do the woman sitting to his left.

She looked gorgeous today in her white sundress and gold hoop earrings. Her cocoa brown skin was smooth, glowing from the sunlight and her face was hidden behind a large pair of round Chanel glasses.

"Doesn't he look so grown up?" Olivia Pope asked, smiling brightly at Fitz. Mellie turned around and smiled tightly. Fitz chuckled.

"He looks grown up now. Wait until he wants something and he starts pouting, then we will see how grown up he is." Fitz joked as he put his arm around Olivia's chair and placed a loving kiss on her forehead.

It was strange…sitting next to them, as they openly behaved as a couple. After years of the lies, it was all out. Strange….

* * *

"Okay, seriously dude, you're totally not eating that cake, Olivia made that for me." Jerry said jokingly, trying to fight Karen with his fork.

They were celebrating Jerry's graduation with a small family dinner on the balcony of Fitz and Olivia's Park Avenue apartment. Jerry had been against a big party. He claimed he wanted to spend his graduation day with "his favorite people in the world and no one else."

The apartment had been purchased a year ago when they had finally revealed they were in a relationship. It had been quiet, tasteful and very Olivia. Carefully crafted and executed, making sure no one suspected the relationship had begun during Fitz's presidency…

It was a beautiful place, warmly decorated and filled with art work and beautiful statement furniture. It was very…them.

"Hey, that cake looks delicious; I'm going to eat whatever I want." Karen said laughing as she pretended to sword fight with her brother with a fork.

"Okay, seriously guys, it's just a cake, what are you, five?" Olivia asked giggling as she took a sip of wine.

"Yes, yes they are." Fitz said smiling. "Liv, you should know better than anyone these two have the maturity level of this fork, just ask Mellie." He waved his fork in the air as they continued to pretend to fight over dessert.

Mellie smiled. How very nice of him to include her in the conversation.

"Yeah, Olivia this is clearly something you get used to after a while." She said sweetly as Olivia laughed. She was trying. She did not want to hate them, or hate her anymore. It was too exhausting. A part of her did not even want to come back to this apartment, this place where they had built together with their…love. It was a little painful to watch Olivia, her kids and her ex-husband being a big happy family. But she had to try. Her therapist said it was part of moving on.

"I guess so, speaking of which, Mellie I know you absolutely _adore_ red velvet cake so I also made one, I can bring it out if you like." Olivia offered kindly. Mellie smiled. Of course Fitz would remember.

"Thanks for remembering Fitz." Mellie said brightly.

"Oh, I didn't, Jerry and Karen did. I could have sworn you loved angel hair but then they reminded me." Fitz said casually as he helped himself to fruit and apple pie. Mellie felt her heart drop. _Way to be hopeful…._

"Yeah, Dad was completely hopeless, he was like 'Oh, I'm pretty sure it's angel'" Karen said, impersonating her father's signature deep baritone. He reached across the table and playfully pinched her arm causing her to squeal with delight.

"Hey, I do not sound like that." He said as Jerry and Olivia laughed.

"Honey, yes you do." Olivia said laughing as she stood up. "Mellie, I'm going to go get the cake, would you mind helping me?" She asked kindly. Mellie did not know how to react. She did not want to be rude. They were not best friends or anything, but what did it hurt?

"Sure." She said kindly, leaving Fitz and the kids to horse around on the balcony. They walked into the beautiful kitchen which had platters of food spread around still. But before Mellie could open her mouth to talk, Olivia began.

"Look, Mel, this is a beautiful day, for Jerry, for everyone. I know this has been a little weird and all, but if there is anything making you uncomfortable or you don't like, you can tell me." She said kindly, her eyes sparkling with concerned. She was surprised that Olivia was being so…thoughtful.

"Olivia, I'm fine. What do you mean?" Mellie said forced. It did not sound very convincing.

Olivia smiled and walked near her and did the strangest thing. She took her hands in hers. It was odd, the smaller, younger woman standing before her, genuinely concerned.

"The past couple of years have been, well, less than normal. You and I have had our problems. And I know that Fitz has moved on, but I'm not sure if you have? And I worry about that. Whether we get along or not, there are still two beautiful children out there who need support. They are at that age. Graduations, dating and entering the work force. And I really need to know that we are all on one team."

Mellie felt stunned. Touched would not be the words because she still felt some animosity toward Olivia. She would not lie to herself. She no longer did. She allowed herself to actually feel. And right now, watching the woman who stole her ex-husband's heart attempt to make peace made her feel perplexed. There was a mix of sadness and relief, yet shock. She wanted to hate her. But she could not.

"Do you love Fitz?" Mellie asked quietly. Olivia's eyes got wide with happiness. The sheer thought seemed to spark life. "More than anything. I love him deeply, Mel. And I just want all of us to get along. I know this is hard, but I need us to move past the awkwardness and the hurt and just be. And I'm sorry if I ever did-"

But Mellie stopped her while she was ahead.

"Olivia, you were never the reason we fell apart. Our marriage, and you know this better than anyone was destroyed years ago. Is there a part of me that is still uneasy with the two of you, yes. I will not pretend. With every day, it gets easier. I still care about him. And I think I always have, in a bizarre way. He's the father of my children. But I don't want you to think that my discomfort today, or any day has anything to do with you personally. Do you understand?" Mellie said thoughtfully, allowing herself to be all the things she never thought she could be. Caring, understanding and most importantly, forgiving.

Olivia nodded slowly and smiled. "I think-"

But before she could finish her sentence, Fitz walked in. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were performing a séance with all the hand holding." He said jokingly as he walked over to the refrigerator.

Olivia laughed as she gave Mellie's hands a brief hand squeeze and joined her boyfriend. She embraced him from behind and tip-toed, placing a kiss on his neck.

"Babe, we were just having girl talk." She said kindly. Seeing them be so natural with each other was curious. It felt intrusive, watching how affectionate they were with one another. Something that was foreign when she had been married to Fitz.

"Girl talk?" He asked curiously as he pulled a delicious looking cake out of the refrigerator. He attempted to scoop a bit of icing of it with his finger but Olivia took the cake away from him with lightning speed.

"Hey!" he said jokingly. But Olivia laughed, making her way out of the kitchen. Mellie smiled, this time genuinely. Curious, they were almost like children, bantering and bickering. Carefree.

"This cake is for Mellie, not you. Right Mel?" she asked jokingly, looking over to Mellie for validation.

"Right!" Mellie said brightly playing along. Fitz grabbed Olivia by the hips, causing her to shriek with laughter as they walked out the room.

Mellie said a while longer to dwell on their little moment before Fitz had walked in. It was strange. It was not normal. But she could learn to get used to it all. And maybe. Just maybe someday, she could find that kind of love.

Maybe someday, she could learn how to love.

* * *

**Author's note: I want to thank everyone for reading my stories. Your kind words mean so much. My next story will definitely be my last (I'm a busy girl lol) but it's been a blast. Really appreciate the love from all the fellow gladiators who root and have love for these characters. You are all awesome :)**


End file.
